


Birdless

by BunnyJess



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: AU of Jason's death, Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Arrest, Beheading, Bisexual Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Child Death, Death, Dick Grayson is a Good Brother, Explosions, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Happy Memories, His Dad (Bruce) won't let him be, Jason Todd is Robin, Lazarus Pit, M/M, Magic, Manipulation, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, PTSD, Scars, Tim Drake is not Robin, Violence, chemical manipulation, he can't lose another one, little wing memorial, mentions of torture, mjolnir armour, psychological abuse, what if Bruce had acted differently
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2019-06-30 17:16:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15756231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunnyJess/pseuds/BunnyJess
Summary: The Batwing has many secret authorization codes that only Bruce knows about. With Joker having taken Jason Todd, the second Robin, will Bruce be pushed to use one of his most extreme?(An AU of Death in the Family. Bruce does something he never thought he would and takes on the consequences.)





	1. Chapter 1

Bruce willed the Batmobile to go faster, faster than he knew it could go. Maybe if it was going as fast as his heart was pounding he might reach there in time. A feeling he’d felt on a rare few occasions filled his body, dread riddled him as he headed towards the last known location of Robin as he knew not what state the Joker had left him in.

“Sir I’m still tracking the Batcycle speeding away from the site, the Batwing will be in range soon.” Alfred’s calm voice gave him away, an unsubtle waver in his tone showed just how worried they all were for Jason’s safety. Bruce was still a mile away when an earth shattering explosion shook his bones and jarred his jaw. “No! JASON!” Bruce drove straight through a house that stood between him and the warehouse, shattering the windscreen into the cockpit and lacerating the exposed portion of Bruce’s face.

As he reopened his eyes his heart almost stopped. Where the warehouse should have been instead lay a burning pile of rubble. Jason must’ve gotten out there was no way he was in that explosion. How could he live with himself if Jason had still been inside? How could he possibly carry on with his mission in the same way?

                Bruce slammed the breaks and allowed himself to be flung from the car, rolling and rising to a run with effortless skill. He quickly set to looking through the rubble, hefting pieces of sheet metal out of the way and tearing down brick walls as if they were paper. Bruce was frantic in his search for Jason, not caring about the blood oozing from his fingertips or the sprained ankle he’d gotten scrabbling over the ruined building.

“One minute to visual contact Master Bruce.” He carried on searching, not wanting to give up. Bruce flipped a small piece of wall to one side and felt his heart stop. Poking out of the bricks in front of him was a vivid green boot, bent at an impossible angle from the leg it was barely attached to.

“Oh god, Jason. No come on Jason, MOVE! PULL YOURSELF OUT!” But there was no sign of movement as Bruce hurled bricks and debris from atop Jason’s lifeless body. Finally it was all clear and Bruce could see the extent of the damage inflicted upon the young boy Despite knowing this was the Joker’s doing he couldn’t help but feel responsible. If he’d just listened to the kid then this would never have happened, but he’d been too insistent on doing it his way. “Jason.” He whispered the words barely even audible. “Visual contact made and, oh, oh no. Sir it’s not Master Jason, he’s not on the bike.”   
               “I know Alfred, I have him.” Bruce could barely speak but knew what he had to say next “He’s gone Alfred, that freak killed him.” An uncomfortably long silence passed between the two before Alfred spoke again, though not in his usual stoic voice. “What do you need me to do Sir? The Batwing can’t follow him forever so my options are very limited. I could hit him with a tracking beacon as the one on the Batcycle just went dead?” Bruce stayed silent, he knew what he had to do but he just couldn’t take his eyes off of Jason.

A flurry of tears fell from his cowl and landed on the cold dark skin of the second boy wonder. “How could I let this happen to him Alfred? I’m supposed to be better than this!” Alfred was lost for words, remembering how he’d felt when Bruce’s parents had been murdered. “Sir I need to know what to do, what do you want to do?” Bruce blinked away the tears and lifted Jason’s body from the warehouse floor, walking slowly back towards the Batmobile.

“Batwing activation code ‘Birdless’.” Bruce’s tone was cold and dead, matching the condition of the boy in his arms. “Voice pattern and password verification required,” the automated voice responded. “I have failed.” Spoke Bruce again as he placed Jason’s body into the passenger seat of the Batmobile.

“Sir the Batwing autopilot has taken over and acquired target lock, is it supposed to…It just fired a missile at the Batcycle. Sir was this supposed to happen?” Bruce remained silent as he began to pull away from the warehouse and head back towards the airport where his large carrier plane was waiting. “Scanning the area, confirmed remains of the Joker are spread over a wide area and his death is now confirmed.” Bruce’s head dipped slightly “Thank you Alfred, alert the authorities and have them come to arrest me once I return.”


	2. Chapter 2

The revelation of Bruce Wayne as Batman had shocked the world, but what was even more shocking was that he was being tried for the murder of the Joker. Many across the country asked why he wasn’t being rewarded as opposed to prosecuted but Bruce had insisted on it. The reveal hadn’t come right away as the DA’s office wanted to keep it under wraps as long as possible so as to find a way to protect the Wayne legacy. During the immensely public trial Bruce provided a word accurate description of the events leading up to and after the death of the Joker supported by video and voice recordings. As he sat in the stalls, head bowed, there was still only one thing he could think of.

                They had held a ceremony for Jason a few days after their return to the manor, buried him in the family plot right next to his parents. Alfred had struggled to hold Bruce up as the horror of what had happened finally hit him and his legs failed beneath him. Jason had been exemplary as Robin, despite his emotions sometimes getting the better of him. When he’d told Bruce that he had a lead on his mother and he wanted to go after her Bruce had regretted benching him and giving him the time to look into it. He had pushed Jason away and that would be the last interaction Bruce had with his son, now he’d never see him again.

                The court took into account all the good Bruce had done for the Gotham and the world during the trial and taken incredible leniency when giving him his sentence. Instead of life in jail Bruce had been given just five years in a low security prison. He was ordered to attend therapy whilst incarcerated to which he didn’t argue, it was the only way he could see himself overcoming the crippling grief inside of him.

                When Vicki Vale reported on the trial she made incredible note of how destroyed and destitute Bruce Wayne looked, nothing like the colourful playboy persona everyone had come to know him by. When arriving at the prison the Warden greeted him with a handshake and thanked him for everything he’d done. Bruce couldn’t bring himself to thank the man, he could barely even say goodbye to Alfred after the trial. As he was processed it was decided that for the safety of the other inmates he’d be put in a separate part of the jail. One guard had tried to argue that he should be put in gen pop with the rest but the warden reminded him that when they all ganged up on Bruce, he was more than capable of putting them all in the infirmary without help, not that Bruce would’ve done anything he just wanted all this to end.

                Therapy was slow to start off with. Bruce still mostly mute, unwilling to speak to anyone for fear of getting them killed if he did. All his life people around him were constantly getting hurt or worse and the lie he’d told himself about it just being part of the Job was now as transparent as the window he stared out of, taking in the bare grasslands surrounding the prison.

                Eventually however, with a prescription of anti-depressants and continued sessions with his therapist, Bruce started to engage and talk about it all. Starting from the relationship with his ever busy parents to the moments before he found Jason’s limp body, Alfred had always said that the day Bruce cried was the day pigs flew so they must be flying today as he couldn’t stop himself now. A week or so into his engagement Bruce had tried to end it all with a rope he’d fashioned out of small tear-offs from bed sheets or clothing but when it came to letting himself drop he just couldn’t do it. Something inside of him willed him not to do it, told him he still had work to do and that this darkness would not last forever.

                As Bruce made progress with his therapy, his dose was steadily lowered and he was given time to study in the library. He wrote the first letter to Alfred since his detention and posted it immediately. What he wasn’t expecting however was the pile of mail he had waiting for him when he checked the office the first time, a lot of it was mail from strangers wanting to thank him which he discarded and filled his bin with. There were about twenty from Alfred though, his easily discerned handwriting sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest.

                His first few letters revolved around wanting to make sure Bruce was safe and updates on the manor and WE but after a while they took a strange twist. Alfred spoke of a young boy who’d approached him before the trial began, how he’d shown Alfred all his research and evidence on why Bruce Wayne was Batman. Alfred hadn’t wanted to tell him this straight away as he feared it would be too much for Bruce to bear. Alfred had taken the young boy in and was now caring for him owing to the boy being an orphan, Bruce wasn’t the only one with a soft spot.

                The boy’s name however was what struck Bruce the most Timothy Drake was heir to the Drake fortune and had disappeared from all records shortly after his parents deaths. According to the boy they had been killed and in an attempt to get Batman personally on the case he had taken to the streets to research him even more, already having to strong belief of who he was. All this had been achieved by a six year old boy, Bruce wrote back to Alfred and told him to continue to care for the boy. When he left prison he would be eleven and Bruce would attempt to adopt him.


	3. Chapter 3

                Bruce’s suit felt wrong. Five years wearing the orange overalls the prison provided meant the soft luxurious fabrics now felt foreign to him and the comfort was unsettling. Still he pulled the jacket over his broad shoulders and stepper closer to the exit waiting for the guard to buzz him out and back into the real world. As he stepped through the final gate and towards the Rolls Royce waiting for him he couldn’t help but feel guilty. Five years for murder wasn’t enough. Five years for two lost lives wasn’t enough. If Bruce had it his way he’d spend the rest of his days rotting in a cell, it was the least he deserved for letting the Joker murder his son.

                Alfred could see the pained look on his charge’s face and new he was still suffering. Although their visits and telephone calls had gotten easier as Bruce worked through his therapy Alfred could still hear the survivors guilt in the way Bruce spoke. The weight of Jason’s life would remain on Bruce’s shoulders for eternity and there was nothing Alfred could do about it. That didn’t mean however that he wouldn’t try, only time would tell how open to help Bruce would be.

                “Master Bruce, what a joy it is to have you back. I hope they treated you well the last week? Young master Timothy has been indulging in some after school classes and finding the time to visit has been…difficult.” Bruce shook his head and placed a weary hand on the aging butler’s shoulder.” Alfred you don’t need to explain yourself, I’m aware that life has to go one without me.” Alfred smiled gently “Right then, we better get back to the manor so that you can finally meet Master Timothy.” Alfred scooped up Bruce’s belongings and bundled him into the car before setting off.

                Gotham hadn’t changed much in the years he’d been away, Dick had returned from Blüdhaven to keep Gotham safe whilst Bruce was locked up. “How’s Dick doing?” Bruce muttered gently, feeling guilty that his first son had been dragged back into Gotham after trying to get away for so long. “He’s doing fine sir, he apprehended Sionis last night, although I am considering moving him from the bedroom above me to the other side of the manor.” The familiar grumpy tone flowed from Alfred “And why’s that?” Bruce was intrigued, maybe it was Dick’s tendency to practice his moves late at night that was distracting Alfred? “Well when Master Richard moved back in, he brought the lovely Princess of Tamaran with him and well…” He paused searching for the right words “Their way of celebrating is rather loud and I’ve heard rather more than I ever wanted to.” Bruce started to laugh and soon was unable to control himself, normally this would’ve earned a scoff from the Brit but it was the first time in five and a half years Alfred had heard Bruce’s laughter and it was all he could do to stop a tear from rolling down his cheek.

                When they entered the drive Bruce noticed a pair of squad cars parked at the gate “Are we expecting anyone Alfred?” The cops stood by their cars tipped their hats as they drove by. “Since your unveiling, Commissioner Gordon has placed a permanent patrol and guard duty on the manor.” The butler seemed to resent the implication that he couldn’t protect the manor himself but grateful for the helping hand Jim had offered them. “We’ve had a few arrests, but nothing major.”

“Good. I’m glad you’ve both been kept safe, no one should have to suffer because of me” Bruce hung his head. He was a death trap; everyone around him was now in danger. How could he possibly allow himself to keep hurting people like this?

                Halfway down the drive and Bruce detected some interference playing with the radio and the engine spluttered slightly “What was that?” Bruce was instantly on high alert, scouring the surrounding area for threats. “Just some safety measures of our own sir. Master Timothy and Master Richard have adapted and I might even say improved some of the Bat-tech and created an electronic deadzone around the manor.” Bruce was intrigued now “That and the numerous other counter-measures mean we’re very safe from this point in.” The Rolls carried on up the long drive before coming to a stop before the grand front doors;

                Alfred rushed round and held open the door for Bruce. As he stepped out a familiar face exited the manor and bound towards him, enveloping him in a bone crushing hug “Hey old man, I’m glad you’re back. Fuck knows we’ve missed you!”

“Language Master Richard” Alfred spat the words out giving Bruce the impression that Dick’s tendency for foul language hadn’t subsided. As Dick stepped back a small boy appeared beside him and cleared his throat. “Hi Bruce, I’m Tim.” Bruce immediately knelt down to his eye level and held out a hand “It’s lovely to finally meet you Tim. I hope Alfred and your future brother have treated you well in my absence?” Tim smiled at the clear mention of how he saw Tim as family already “Very well sir…”

“Please, call me Bruce. I’m no one’s master despite what Alfred thinks.” Alfred rolled his eyes behind him as they stood and moved into the manor.

                As they sat and chatted in Bruce’s favourite drawing room he could feel the warmth and the love the three men sat before him felt radiating into him. Bruce may not feel like he deserved to be out of prison, but he was starting to think that maybe he did deserve the love of these three men. Two of which seemed to love him more than before he went into prison. After a while Tim left to complete his homework and Alfred to go make tea and as Dick and Bruce started to discuss his evening activities the room’s ambient temperature suddenly jumped a few degrees higher. “Oh Babe you’re back!” Dick leapt from his seat and embraced the floating woman who’d entered the room. “Bruce, I’d like to introduce you to Kori, or Princess Koriand’r of the planet Tamaran.” Bruce instantly bowed and she laughed gently “Mister Wayne there is no need for you to do that. If all that Richard tells me is true then it is I who should be bowing to you.” Bruce let a smile grace his lips “I think then a handshake will suffice.”

                As the night wore on they all swapped stories and small talk they eventually drifted off to their rooms. Bruce however struggled to get comfy on his old mattress. It was too soft and welcoming for him so he decided to go for a walk. Before he knew it he found himself in the grounds, pushing open the gate to the family cemetery. Most of the headstones were old and worn but one stood out amongst the rest, the stone yet to become sullied by the effects of weather and time. Jason’s grave was something he’d wanted to avoid but he knew if he didn’t go now he never would. As he edged closer he felt a tide of pain crush him and he crumpled to his knees with tears streaming down his face. Bruce reached out a hand to touch the letters spelling Jason’s name. “I…I’m so sorry Jaylad. It was all my stupid fault. If I’d just listened then maybe…” Bruce ran out of words, nothing doing justice to the betrayal he had committed, or the apology Jason deserved.

                The walk back to the manor was long and cold but when he arrived he found Alfred with a steaming cup of hot chocolate waiting for him. “Drink this sir, then I think heading straight to bed might be the best course of action. It’s not like you haven’t had an…eventful day.” Alfred was right, he needed to sleep and after finishing off his hot chocolate Alfred escorted him to his room. Getting back into his bed shorts Bruce climbed into bed and got comfortable. This time sleep came fast and before he knew it Bruce was asleep. It wasn’t the worst first day out of prison ever, but for Bruce, he was just glad it was over.


	4. Chapter 4

                Tim’s adoption had gone well, despite the black mark on Bruce’s name it had been decided at the tribunal that Bruce would still in fact be a suitable father to the young boy and if anything he had made the city safer for Tim to grow up in. Bruce had flinched heavily at the implication of his crimes, he had made the city safer yet why did he feel like he’d made it worse. They had gone out to celebrate at Tim’s favourite restaurant, to which Bruce was glad wasn’t one of those suck up restaurants he used to have to eat at for appearances sake. Instead it was an independent pizza shop that tailored to Tim’s odd tastes for pizza. Canadian bacon, onion and artichoke hearts definitely wouldn’t be Bruce’s first or even last choice for pizza toppings but Tim loved it and that was all that mattered.

                It had gotten dark by the time they were heading back to the manor and Bruce found himself staring up at the roof tops, ghosts of Jason and himself appeared swinging from one side of the street to the other. Bruce shook his head violently to throw the images from his mind, this was too much for him and he needed to get home. “Step on it Alfred I need to be home, NOW.” Bruce’s firm tone shocked both Alfred and Tim, the day had gone so well and they weren’t sure what the problem was.

“Are you okay Bruce, did I do something wrong?” Tim looked like all the life had been robbed from his eyes, the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Bruce.

“No son, of course not. I’m sorry I worried you, I’m just not ready to be out this late yet.”

                As they pulled up at the manor Bruce sprang from the car and up the marble steps, not even pausing to close the door behind him. Tim started to rush after him but Alfred grabbed gently onto his wrist, “Best to let him go Master Tim, he needs some space to clear his head.”

Bruce sprinted up the stairs and straight to his bedroom locking the door behind him. He pulled off his coat and jacket and sat in the middle of his bed, concentrating on his breathing and trying to slow it down. He remembered the techniques his councillor had taught him and focussed his mind. Bruce saw the emotions he was dealing with and burrowed into them.

                The last time he’d been out that late in Gotham was with Jason, tracking down some of the Joker’s middlemen in an attempt to locate a stash of his Laughing gas. Thinking of Jason and he fighting crime just crushed Bruce under a wall of guilt and self-loathing, it had been his fault Jason was ever in a dangerous situation. What had his councillor said? “Jason was there because he wanted to be there and he knew the risks of going out there with you.” She was right but it had been Bruce who offered for Jason to join him at all, he should’ve known not to put a teenager in such a dangerous situation like that but he was so consumed with _completing the mission_.

Bruce could feel himself slipping further and further into a hole he knew he wouldn’t be able to climb out of if he fell any more. He pulled himself from his thoughts and walked over to the intercom. “Alfred, Alfred are you there?”

There was a momentary pause then the gentle British voice spoke clearly and slowly through the intercom. “Yes Master Bruce I’m here, how can I help?”

Bruce’s finger hovered over the speak button, he knew he needed to say what he was trying to but that dark part of his brain was willing him not to do it so it could deepen it’s hold over its host. “I need you to call me a therapist, and I need them to come tomorrow please.” His finger released the button as quickly as it could and he walked back over to his bed, stripping his trousers as he went.

“Of course Master Bruce, leave it with me.”

                The next morning after a horrendous night’s sleep Bruce dragged himself down to the kitchen hoping Alfred would be there to whip him up something to eat. Sure enough there was Alfred waiting for him, already preparing him a generous portion of his famous full English breakfast.

“Good morning Master Bruce, breakfast will be just a moment.” He said stirring the scrambled egg to just how Bruce liked it. As he pushed the egg from the large cast-iron pan Bruce poured himself a large mug of coffee from the pot. “Be careful Master Bruce, that’s Master Timothy’s favourite brand and I find it to be rather potent. God knows where the boy discovered his taste for coffee but it’s strong.” Bruce managed a small laugh and took a sip, before nearly choking on possibly the strongest coffee he’d ever tasted.

                “Tim drinks this stuff?!” He exclaimed reaching for the sugar and milk and wiping a tear from his eye.

“Yes, unfortunately so, although I’ve managed to limit him to one cup a day at that strength.” Alfred placed and enormous plate of food before Bruce and positioned the appropriate silver cutlery besides the plate. “There we go sir, now eat up as the Psychologist will be here in an hour and a half.” Bruce nearly choked on a piece of sausage, forgetting that he’d asked Alfred to summon him some help.

“Oh yes thank you Alfred. I’d forgotten about that, maybe I should cancel them as I’m not prepared?” Alfred had that look on his face that Bruce dreaded, “I know I know Alfred, I’m trying to find a way out of it. Can you fetch me some more comfortable clothes from storage, I don’t think formal wear will be right for this.” Alfred dipped his head and scurried off to find the clothes Bruce had sworn never to wear, thankful he’d insisted on keeping them around somewhere.

                The first meeting with Dr Charlie Soren had been difficult. She had asked Bruce to try and outline what exactly it was he was struggling with and what he wanted from the following sessions. Bruce had struggled to let his deepest fears and failings out but he’d managed to despite the ensuing anxiety attack he suffered. What had gone well though was Charlie’s acceptance and help through the attack; she fetched him a glass of water and a blanket that had been thrown over the back of the sofa. They managed to outline a beginning and end point with Charlie giving Bruce numbers he could call if he was ever struggling or places he could go. Alfred escorted Charlie to her car and waited as she left, disabling the deadzone as she approached and activating it after she passed.

                “So Master Bruce, did it go well?” He asked as he walked into the drawing room, Bruce had moved to behind the desk as was scribbling on a piece of paper. Bruce said nothing and continued to write on the piece of pristine white paper. Alfred turned to leave the room, accepting that Bruce might just not be ready for people after his first session.

“Sorry Alfred, yes it went well but I’d rather not talk about it if it’s all the same to you?” Alfred faced his charge and a bright smile formed on the man’s usually stoic expression.

“Of course sir, I’m just glad you found the session helpful. All we want is for you to feel some semblance of normality again.”

Bruce hung his head slightly, “I haven’t felt that since I was nine Alfred, but I appreciate the sentiment thank you.”

                Bruce’s response summed up the headspace he was currently in, Alfred knew he could expect a lot more to come over the next few years, maybe even for the rest of his life but if it meant Bruce’s recovery then Alfred would take it. “No problem sir, perhaps a cup of tea to help settle your nerves?”  
“Yes that sounds excellent Alfred; I wouldn’t mind a light snack either if that’s okay?” Alfred smiled; glad to see Bruce’s appetite slowly returning.

“Of course sir, I shall be right back.” Alfred turned and left Bruce to his writing, praying that Dr Soren could help Bruce and help him rebuild his family.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been several years now since Bruce had been released and started his therapy. Initial progress had been expectedly slow, bringing up all those raw emotions both from Jason and his parents was only ever going to be a turbulent time. Bruce regularly had to apologise to Tim and Alfred for his behaviour, he had become snappy and would lash out verbally at the slightest issue. They never once resented him for it though, they both knew he was going through hell currently and decided to wait out the storm. Eventually their patience was rewarded; Bruce was becoming more outgoing and spending more time with them. He was actually starting to spend time alone with Tim which was something he had not managed to do before, the memories of Jason still too fresh in his mind.

After about a year Bruce was able to go out into Gotham after dark, just for drives round the city at first but gradually they built up the time and frequency that they spent out. After three months Bruce stopped them before they went out, a slight tremble in his voice. “I know I don’t normally make requests, but I’d like to go for a meal tonight.” Alfred and Tim stopped in their tracks and looked at him.

“Oh of course sir, where is it that you’d like to go?” Bruce held the back of his neck and looked at the floor, clearly nervous about what he was going to ask.

“If it’s okay with you Tim I’d like to go to one of Jason’s favourite stops?”

Tim walked closer to Bruce and took his large hand in his. “Dad, of course it is! I’m just happy that you’re feeling confident enough to get out the car.” He tugged on Bruce’s arm, a wide smile etched on his face. “Come on then old man, let’s go!” As Tim led the two men out to the car Bruce felt a pang of pain at Tim using old man in the same way as Jason, he didn’t let that hold them back though and so they set off into town. Bruce’s leg was thumping up and down as they went but Tim never once let go of his hand, giving him random squeezes to reassure him he was still there.

When they pulled up to the small restaurant just on the edge of the Narrows they couldn’t help but feel slightly out of place. In the years since Bruce had been locked up the Narrows had only gotten worse, with all the costumed villains turning it into a hell hole. Luckily this place was still going. ‘Esmerelda’s’ was a small, authentic, family run Mexican restaurant, Jason had loved it as it reminded him of his Mamá’s cooking.

The food was just as good as Bruce remembered it being and brought a warm sensation to him both because of the spices and the memories of Jason. They stayed for quite some time, ordering more and more as Bruce revelled in the happy times they had spent here years ago. Soon though they could eat no more and sent for the cheque. When it arrived Bruce noticed it was the owner who had been serving them, but also that they had been one of two tables all night. “Excuse me; you run this place don’t you?”

The slight Mexican lady walked back to the table. “That’s right sir I do.” She spoke with a smile and peppiness in her voice but Bruce saw beyond the façade. The restaurant looked the same as when he’d been here with Jason and the plates looked just as old. The menus they’d ordered from hadn’t changed and all the upholstery was tired and worn.

“The service and food is impeccable, so how come no one is in here?” The woman ducked her head and tried to fight back the tears.

“It’s the location sir. No one wants to come this far because the risks are just so high these days, and we can’t get any custom from the Narrows because no one has any spare money. We’ve found a place further into the city but we lose money every night, we can’t afford to move and no bank will give us a loan.” She wiped away the track of a tear and excused herself.

“Alfred, pass me my cheque book.” Alfred handed him the small book and Bruce scribbled away then they stood and left. Just as Alfred was pulling off he glanced back into the restaurant and saw the two owners embracing tightly holding the cheque. “A million dollars should set them up in a good spot and some spare to set the place up right.” Bruce had said, even now he was still trying to make a difference to the city.

A year or so after that night they walked into the new ‘Esmerelda’s’ and marvelled at the incredible job the owners had done in remaking the place in their new location. A lot more centrally located and with rave reviews business was booming and they had struggled to get reservations. As they took their seats however they were met with cheers and applause from behind the counter and the woman they had spoken too that night bounded up to him and hugged him fiercely. “Sir I can never thank you enough for what you did for us. We were so close to losing everything and now, now we have been able to move our entire family out of the Narrows and into the flats above the restaurant.

Bruce simply smiled and replied, “It’s nothing honestly, you gave me just as much that night as I did you.” This was true. Since that night Bruce had made a breakthrough and had completely changed. He had started actively attending meetings at Wayne Enterprises; he had turned the Wayne Foundation from a PR show to an actually charitable organisation that actively worked in the Narrows, he had pushed the board to start focussing on development projects within Gotham rather than weapons research, and had started reconciling with Dick. The latter of which had brought Alfred to tears, especially when Bruce had done what he admitted he should’ve done straight away and had officially adopted Dick.

Now family dinners were a lot livelier, not only was Dick now attending them but he was also bringing his new boyfriend along. Wally was a lively lad with an unusually large appetite for a man with such an athletic figure, still it wasn’t like Bruce couldn’t afford the extra food. One particular evening he had thought he saw Wally wobble like he was there, then gone, then back again. It reminded him of Barry Allen but Bruce just assumed he was tired and left it at that. He was just glad that he was finally starting to feel like he was rebuilding his life and helping those he’d set out to help all those years ago, just in a different way now.

Happiness however, only seems to last so long in Bruce’s world. “We bring you breaking news of a bomb that was detonated just outside central Gotham earlier today!” Bruce knew he shouldn’t have turned on the news, the explosion had just sounded like a jet flying overhead but curiosity had gotten the better of him eventually and he’d turned on the TV. “We have no confirmed casualties yet but that is expected to change as emergency services try to safely access what used to be one of the up-and-coming restaurants in the district.

That was when Bruce recognised the street, and the remains of the yellow hoarding that had hung above ‘Esmerelda’s’. Bruce leapt from the sofa and sprinted to the garage, almost knocking Alfred over as he stopped to slip on some shoes. “Master Bruce is everything okay?” He asked spotting the panic in Bruce’s eyes.

“Which of the supercars is protected from the EMP?”

“All of them sir, the last one was finished last year. What’s wrong sir?” Bruce sprinted off again grabbing the keys for the McLaren P1 as he went.

“Check the news!” He shouted back to the man as he carried on to the garage.

Bruce broke every speed limit as he raced towards the city, taking the racing line down the winding roads that lead from the manor to Gotham. Once he got there the traffic was still so he flung the McLaren into a parking spot and started running. He soon reached the police blockade and spotted one of the new hires that had served him the last time they visited. Bruce ducked under the tape whilst no one was looking and ran over to her. “Is everyone okay? What happened?” He asked as the woman looked up at him still shaking.

“I was just round the corner coming back from my break when it…oh god everyone was in there!” She broke down into tears for what looked like not the first time and Bruce left her to the police support officer.

As he rounded the corner he could see for himself now the extent of the damage. The entire building and two neighbouring buildings were piles of rubble and no longer resembled their previous form. Twisted girders protruded from piles of concrete and wood, the air was thick with dust and smoke. A cry came from one of the fire fighters that were clearing the rubble; Bruce stuck his head round the fire truck and saw what all the commotion was about. An arm was sticking out from the rubble the fire fighter had cleared, half way up the forearm it took an unnatural left turn and it was clear whoever it belonged to was dead.

They slowly cleared the rubble surrounding the body and pulled it gently out, resting it near one of the ambulances. It took Bruce a second to realise but his brain soon recognised the body, it was the young woman who owned the restaurant. Her bloodied and broken body resembled just how Bruce felt looking at what had become of her, he fell to his knees and began sobbing uncontrollably. It was then that a police officer spotted him and came running over.

“Mr Wayne are you okay? Were you here when it happened?” Bruce shook his head slowly answering both of the woman’s questions, not that she could know that. “I’ll be right back sir.” She said and soon returned with a foil blanket and helped him to the refuge area that had been set up for witnesses and those who had been in the surrounding area but were unhurt. Bruce was there for half an hour before Alfred, Dick and Tim turned up. Fresh tears were still rolling down his face as they picked him up and walked him back to the Rolls; Dick took the keys for the P1 and met them back at the manor.

After dinner they all went and sat in the drawing room to play Monopoly, it was a favourite of Dick and Tim’s and they knew that playing it would help distract Bruce for a little while. They’d been playing for half an hour when Alfred burst in. “Sir, the news.” Dick flipped over the couch and hit the power button on the flat screen; it warmed and then burst to life.

“…has now risen to twenty killed and no survivors found yet. We do now know who is responsible as the Black Mask released a video at five pm.” Bruce’s brow furrowed in anger, Sionis had never cared who he hurt as long as he was on top. “We will now play a small part of the tape; some viewers may find it disturbing.” The feed cut to a pre-recorded message.

“To anyone else who thinks they can escape my rule over the Narrows, to anyone who thinks they can avoid my protection payments by moving to another part of the city. THIS is what happens to you when you try to cheat me out of my money!” The video cut off and back to the reporter, Dick turned it off not wanting to expose Bruce to anymore of it.

“I’ll find him Dad; I’ll bring him in and make sure he sees justice for what he did today!” Alfred could see the anger rising in Dick, but that wasn’t what worried him. Bruce was the one who had given them the chance to get out of the Narrows, the funds to make their dream come to life. Knowing how Bruce could think he was worried that he would start to blame himself, putting yet more lives on his already heavy conscience.

Almost as if Alfred could predict the future Bruce stood up and stormed out with Dick in close pursuit, but as he followed him it wasn’t his bedroom he was headed for. “B, where are you going?” He got no answer which was even more worrying. That was when he saw Bruce take a turn that only lead to one part of the building. “BRUCE NO!” Dick broke out into a sprint to get to the elevator first, he only just managed to beat Bruce there, putting himself in-between the entrance and Bruce. “Bruce you can’t, you’re not ready!” There was a fire like nothing he’d ever seen in Bruce’s eyes as tears streamed down his face again.

“Bruce.” He said, softer this time, trying to break through to his father. “If you go out there now you risk doing the one thing you don’t want to do, you are not ready to put that suit back on. Please come back to the drawing room with me.” Dick put his hands on Bruce’s shoulders, hoping the touch would snap him back to reality. “We’ll have Alfred whip up some chamomile tea for us all yeah?” Bruce finally blinked and Dick saw his shoulders sink.

“Okay Dick, thank you.” He turned and headed back to the drawing room. Dick relaxed and mouthed to himself. _Thank fuck that worked._


	6. Chapter 6

Alfred and Tim were out doing the weekly food shop and Dick was over at Wally’s old apartment collecting the remaining trinkets left there from when they moved out. Bruce found himself walking the empty halls of the manor aimlessly, the trauma of the bombing last week weighing heavily on his mind and footsteps. His pace was slow and indirect; he almost stumbled through the decadent corridors. He stopped suddenly and wiped a solitary tear off his cheek and glanced to his left. A bust of his great-great-great-grandfather sat atop a pillar, the top of its head was worn smooth of any detailing from regular usage. Bruce placed his hand on the bust and pushed, the neck gave-way and revealed a tiny retinal scanner, an intense light beamed over Bruce’s face and then winked green as the secret door next to it slid open revealing the elevator down to the cave.

The ride down was shorter than he remembered, maybe there had been some improvements made during his time away? The gate swung open and a strange but familiar smell filled Bruce’s nostrils, he breathed in heavily remembering the BatCave’s unique smell and carried on further into his old base of operations. Just like the smell the main level of the BatCave was the same but not all at once, some of the screens around the BatComputer had changed and the ambient lighting ran a cool blue as opposed to the dull white light Bruce had used. Dick had clearly made the BatCave his home for his return to Gotham, which made Bruce oddly happy. The thought of Dick working out of the BatCave again was something he’d always wanted but never thought he’d see.

“I left most of it the same for you old man.” Bruce spun on his heels and his fists raised into a fighting stance as Dick started to chuckle. “Take it easy B; you know I couldn’t hurt you.” Bruce’s fists relaxed and he brought a palm up to his forehead.

“Sorry Dick, it’s just being down here. It’s putting me on edge.” Dick walked over to him and punched his shoulder lightly.

“I get it don’t worry, to be honest I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you in here again. It’s nice.” Bruce laughed internally at the mirrored emotions between himself and his eldest son before walking over to the BatComputer. “So what brought you down here B? Thought I said to stay away?”

Bruce shot him a judgemental look. “I’m not looking for the cowl if that’s what you’re suggesting. My almost moment the other day just had me thinking and I kinda wanted to see the place again, see if it had changed just like everything else.” His head hung as his mind flashed images of people glancing at him and whispering as he walked around town.

“B, come on man, Gotham never changes. You’re just looking at it differently now, besides I think Alfred would take my head off if I did what I really wanted to do down here.” Dick walked back over to Bruce and leant against the desk of the BatComputer. “There’s one change I think you might want to see though, it was the first thing I did when I took over this place.”

Bruce looked suspicious as Dick launched himself off the desk and gestured for him to follow. They walked past the backlit armour racks and came to a stop, Dick pressed a button next to the Bat suit and a set of overhead spotlights flashed on and warmed slowly. They focused on a large glass case surrounded by four walls with pictures and odd bits of paper stuck on them, inside the case was a pristine suit suspended from hooks and clear plastic supports.

Bruce fell heavily to his knees as the sight of Jason’s empty spare Robin suit stared back at him and he burst into uncontrollable tears. They streamed down his face and snot dangled loosely from his nose; Dick ran over to him and wrapped him up in the tightest of hugs Bruce had ever experienced. That’s when he felt Dick shaking as well, realising that he was crying too.

Once the two had managed to regain their composure slightly Dick helped Bruce to his feet. “Fuck I miss him B, my Little Wing; I just had to do something. Make somewhere to come that no one outside the family could ever see that truly honoured every aspect of his life.” Bruce started to look at the pictures and cuttings on the wall and revelled in all the happy memories that washed over him.

 “It’s beautiful Dick, I couldn’t have done it better myself. Thank you.”

After they’d finished walking around the memorial Dick showed him around the rest of the cave, pointing out any changes he’d made. Their tech had changed in the years he’d been away; Lucius had clearly never stopped helping them fight the fight. “This though is one of my favourite additions, it’s not complete yet but I still wanna show you.” Dick led them through a tarp and into a part of the cave Bruce hadn’t used before.

Inside the tarp was a platform with several robotic arms hanging above a pronounced circle in the middle of the platform and the standard rack of BatGadgets and weapons on a wall behind it. “Once it’s finished you won’t need the control panel.” Dick said pointing at the clearly temporary screen and stand it was situated on that was placed just before the circle. “You’ll just be able to walk on and the station will set to work itself. All this was a collaborative effort between Lucius, Tim, Koriand’r, Wally and me.” Dick was now sporting the world’s biggest grin as he walked forwards and placed his feet on the indicated locations in the middle of the circle.

He keyed in a code onto the screen and then hit the activation tab. Parts of the circle dropped away and more arms extended from the floor with pieces of what looked like armour at the end of them. The arms above descended too and also appeared to be holding armour segments. Pieces of armour were placed onto Dick’s body and then fixed into place with automated drills and screwdrivers. Soon enough all the arms withdrew and Dick flexed his arms.

“You like it huh? It’s a set of advanced combat armour that sort of gives you powers too.” His grin now stretched from ear to ear. “It integrates with a small neural implant and gives me improved reaction times, strength and speed. It also has a powerful energy shield that provides limited protection. Finally it’s made of ultra-lightweight Titanium and will stop most small arms and assault rifles while only really weakening against larger calibres.”

Bruce was speechless; Dick resembled a walking tank in this new armour and couldn’t see how he could possibly retain any of his previous mobility or dexterity. “What about your head? That’s still exposed and surely the shield can’t cover where there isn’t a projector?” A knowing and mischievous look spread across Dick’s face and he pressed another tab on the screen. A final arm lowered from the ceiling and placed a full coverage helmet onto his head, Bruce heard the rush of air as it clearly formed a seal where the helmet met the neck.

Bruce could no longer see Dick’s face as a blue bird-shaped faceplate covered where his eyes would be, it suddenly depolarized and he could see his son’s excitedly wide eyes looking back at him. “I know I know, it’s the coolest thing you’ve ever seen right?” Bruce nodded looking impressed with the quality of the armour.

“It’s good but how’s your manoeuvrability in it, surely it limits your range of movement?” Dick polarized the faceplate and took up a fighting stance then waved his fingers, challenging Bruce to try and hit him. Bruce walked towards Dick and swung a slow punch but Dick simply brushed the blow away.

“Come on, properly old man or is that all you’ve got left these days.” Bruce smirked and pulled back his arm before letting lose with a powerful right jab, but Dick wasn’t there anymore. Dick had leapt clean over Bruce, twisted several times in the air and landed behind him all with effortless ease. Bruce ducked and turned to try and catch Dick off guard but Dick was already moving. His right arm encompassed Bruce’s right fist and stopped it dead in its tracks, he then spun Bruce around locking his arm behind his back then lifted him clean off the ground and above his head.

“Holy crap Dick!” He shouted as Dick lowered Bruce slowly back to his feet. “How long did it take you to make this?” Dick’s eyes appeared again and his body language shifted to uneasy.

“If I’m honest, this was the first use outside the lab; I’m still yet to use it on the streets. Lucius is coming by to apply the last coats of paint and updates later today. Then it’s just a matter of testing it in the Holo Training Room until I’m completely comfortable and the bugs are all worked out.” Bruce laughed and went to slap Dick on the bicep, only his hand shot away from Dick just before it actually hit him.

“Ow shit, energy shield?”

 Dick looked flustered beneath his helmet. “Sorry B, forgot to turn it off, there you go.” A static that Bruce hadn’t noticed in the air disappeared, he then poked Dick on one of the Pectoral plates feeling just how solid the armour was.

“How much does this weigh?” Bruce inquired walking around Dick inspecting the armour inch-by-inch.

“Errr because of the Titanium, a lot, but the fact that it’s power armour means I feel none of the weight. It sort of supports itself and is constantly predicting my movements to ensure I’m safe from its weight.” Bruce came back round to face Dick and nodded approvingly.

“This is wonderful Dick, I mean truly impressive. How many of these suits exist?” He asked as Dick pulled off the helmet and passed it to Bruce to inspect.

“Well including this one there are two more, one still in production and the other is sort of a mule for testing out new tech on but the spare should be finished any day now.” Dick took the helmet back from Bruce and stepped back onto the platform, setting the station to now remove his armour. “Once the sensors are complete it will recognise the user and fit the appropriate armour for that person without pressing any buttons as soon as they’re settled on the starting pads.”

Bruce looked confused. “What do you mean appropriate user?”

Dick stepped off the platform now free of armour and sheepishly held the back of his neck. “Well for a start I didn’t know if you would ever consider putting the cowl on again and, well, Tim has already stated that at some point in the future he would like to join the fight.” Bruce impulsively stepped back and looked away. “Look I had the same reaction too so I made him promise that he had to be at least twenty one before he started and he had to get your approval before even looking at suit designs.” Bruce considered Dick’s words and internally relented, Tim had only found them because of who they were and what they did so it was no great surprise that he would have desires of donning a cape.

“Come on B, let’s go back up to the manor and we can talk about this some other time. Besides Tim and Alfred will be back with the shopping soon and I’m dying for some cereal!” They both walked back over to the elevator and rode it up to the manor. As they emerged they could hear that Tim and Alfred were already home and unpacking the shopping, unusually though the TV in the kitchen was on and Bruce could make out the news in the background.

“Why’s the news on Timmy?” Dick shouted round the corner before Bruce and Dick appeared in the kitchen.

“Something’s happened, look!” Tim pointed at the screen as the segment restarted.

“Earlier today the body of Roman Sionis was discovered outside the Town Hall. The head had been decapitated and is still nowhere to be seen. No one knows how the body was put there and CCTV from surrounding areas only shows static but one thing is clear. Someone out there did not take kindly to the Black Mask’s recent act of terrorism.” Bruce and Dick stood mouths agape as the shock of what they were hearing hit them.

That’s when Bruce heard a car pull up outside, a minute or two later the bell rang and Alfred rushed off to answer it. Soon he reappeared followed by an old friend. “Commissioner Gordon his here to see you Master Bruce.”

Gordon removed his hat and extended his hand to Bruce who gladly shook back. “It’s good to see you again lad, and finally out of a jumpsuit too no less.” Bruce smiled and nodded courteously back at him. “Look I don’t want to be here asking what I’m about to ask…but I’m getting pressure from the majors office to do so. Did you have anything to do with this whole Sionis business? We know you put a lot of your own money into the restaurant that was bombed and you are the last vigilante to…kill.” Gordon hesitantly said. “So currently all fingers are pointing at you.”

Dick stepped forwards and spoke firmly to the old family friend. “Jim, Bruce hasn’t left the manor since we got him back from the bombing, and we’ve got CCTV throughout the manor to prove that. There’s no way Bruce could’ve done this.”

Jim nodded in agreement. “I know lad but if I didn’t ask someone else would’ve and I don’t think they would’ve asked in your kitchen either.” Alfred scoffed at the implied meaning behind Jim’s words and the returned to putting away the steaks in the meat fridge.

“If you could just send us in the tapes that prove you were here the last three days that’s all I need. Look I know you didn’t do this. I don’t suspect you for a moment but no one in the department or City Hall knows you like I do.” Jim extended his hand once more and Bruce shook it, lighter this time. “Thanks for putting up with this old man’s shit.” He said as he turned to leave. “Don’t worry Alfred I can show myself out.” Before too long they all heard Jim pulling off and down the entry road.

“How could they even think this could be you?!” Dick exclaimed loudly but Bruce held a hand up to silence him.

“No Dick, they’re right to look at me first, after all I do have history.” The sadness of the implications and memories were clear to see written across his one expressionless face.

Dick shrugged. “I still think they’re fucking moronic. Anyway, how did this even happen? It’s not like Sionis sits around with a target on his back. He hides away with layer upon layer of security protecting him. Whoever did this was trained and trained well; we just need to find out who.”


	7. Chapter 7

“The latest in a line of high profile murders of Gotham’s super-villains is the mob boss Salvatore Maroni. His headless body was discovered this morning in his bedroom posed like the others as if he was mid prayer.” Alfred turned off the TV and carried on making breakfast as he heard Bruce’s footsteps on the stairs.

“Good morning Master Bruce, freshly made granola and high protein strawberry yoghurt?”

Bruce nodded groggily as he poured himself a cup of coffee and took a seat at the breakfast bar. “You know I have a television in my room which plays the news too Alfred? You don’t have to turn it off when you hear me coming.” He said as he took another swig of his coffee.

Alfred paused momentarily then carried on. “Indeed sir, but it won’t stop me from trying to protect you.”

Bruce gave him a patronising look. “You know I don’t need protecting from them Alfred.”

The ageing English man sighed slightly. “I didn’t mean from them sir.”

Bruce wasn’t expecting Alfred’s remark which made it sting even more, he was right though. The thoughts of donning the cowl once more had been growing stronger with each new murder of Gotham’s sinister elite. “It’s just not; it’s not how this should be done Alfred. I know I can’t speak because of my history but...”

Alfred cut him off. “Sir your history has nothing to do with this; you did what any rational parent would’ve done if they were in your situation. You must come to realise the normality of your response.” Bruce’s head bowed.

“That doesn’t mean I was right Alfred, a life doesn’t justify a life.”

“Then how about hundreds of lives for a life, sir?”

Alfred’s words stunned Bruce for a moment, this was something his brain had refused to let him process until now and once again his faithful companion was spot on. It wasn’t just Jason that the Joker had murdered, hundreds of innocent people had fallen under his boots before Bruce fired that missile and the weight of his crimes would surely outdo any potential moral ramifications on Bruce’s part.

“Morning losers!” Dick’s chipper attitude shattered the tense atmosphere in the kitchen and snapped Bruce back into the room.

“Really Master Dick, must you be so irritating quite this soon into the day?”

Dick flipped over the counter and gave Alfred a completely one-sided hug. “You know you love me really!” He said picking up Bruce’s bowl of granola and ran out of the room.

“AND HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU NOT TO JUMP THROUGH THE KITCHEN!” Alfred shouted after him but he was already gone. Alfred shook his head and prepared another bowl of granola for Bruce who had slipped back into his own thoughts again. “Err Master Bruce? Are you feeling okay this morning?”

Bruce nodded, taking his breakfast from Alfred and spooning the contents into his mouth which elicited a satisfied moan from the young billionaire. “I’m fine Alfred honestly; actually, I think I’m starting to see things a bit clearer now.” A proud smile covered Alfred’s face as a glimmer of the Bruce he had known before the night outside the Monarch theatre flashed before his eyes. “What’s my schedule for the day?” Bruce inquired.

“Well there’s a board meeting this afternoon but nothing until then, had an idea sir?”

Bruce yawned and stretched his arms behind his back. “Oh nothing really Alfred, I’ve just got this feeling like I need to start putting some time back in in the gym.”

Bruce emerged from the shower still feeling the burn deep in his muscles. “Oh crap it’s been too long Alfred, why did I decide to do this again?”

Alfred handed Bruce his recovery shake and shrugged his shoulders. “Well to be honest sir you haven’t actually told me yet.” In all his excitement Bruce had completely forgotten to enlighten Alfred as to why he’d felt so compelled to regain his former level of fitness.

“I just feel like something big is about to happen, something that’s going to require me to be ready. All this murdering business has me on edge if I’m honest.”

Alfred nodded. “Well I’m certainly not going to stop you, it’s about time you started fitting your clothes again.”

Dick burst through the doors of the shower room attached to the gym and swept it with his eyes for Bruce. “Upstairs. Now.” He left as quickly as he entered and Bruce rushed to pull on his tracksuit and jogged back towards the main section of the manor. Stood in the main entrance were Dick and Wally with the doors wide open, in the middle of the doors was a black satchel bag with a note pinned to it. As Bruce approached an awful stench met his nostrils and he recoiled trying not to throw up. He composed himself and carried on towards the bag. Carefully, and with some gloves handed to him by Alfred, he removed the note from the bag and it read:

_I notice you haven’t learnt that there’s only one way to deal with the plague of Gotham Bruce. But then again you never did listen to me. I know you’ve locked that clown away somewhere and I’m gunna tear this city down to find him, one crook at a time._

He put the note next to the bag and leant down to unzip it. “B what are you doing?! It could be a bomb in there!”

Bruce shook his head confidently. “No, this isn’t a bomb Dick, it’s a warning. Someone out there is harbouring a vendetta against me because they think Joker is still alive.” As Bruce slowly opened the zip the smell increased tenfold and eventually revealed the severed heads of the super-villains that were recently murdered. “Call Jim, Alfred, he’s going to want to see this. Oh and while you’re at it call Lucius, I’m going to need a new suit.”

Bruce poured himself a cup of tea from the tea pot and took a cautious sip but found the drink to be just the right temperature. “Bruce you can’t be serious about this? Going back out there amidst all of this? With some freak threatening you! It’s not safe for you.” Bruce knew his family would object to this, especially Dick but he had no choice. His hand was being forced by this new threat to Gotham’s underbelly and they were clearly intent on bringing him down as well.

“Dick I am not making this decision lightly, and it’s not going to be like last time, we can’t afford to take the same risks as last time.” Bruce then realised what he needed to do. “Alfred where’s Tim? I need to speak with him.”

“Master Timothy is in the East wing with his tutor sir, but I would really think twice about interrupting as they’re studying history and it’s his favourite subject of late.” Bruce smiled and remembered the scaled down scene from ‘The Charge of the Light Brigade’ Tim had made as a special project recently. Bruce had placed it on display in the entrance foyer for all visitors to see.

“I know Alfred, once he’s finished send him straight to me, this can’t wait.” Dick circled Bruce suspiciously.

“You’re not thinking about giving him the cape are you?” A shocked tone erupted from Dick.

“God no, we discussed this Dick. Not at least until he can drink legally would I consider letting him into that world, but if I’m going back into it I need to clear it with him first. He deserves to know what I’m doing and the risks involved.” Dick smiled gently and rested his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “What?” Bruce asked.

“Nothing B, I’m just proud of you.” Dick pulled him in for a hug before running off to get some lunch. Twenty minutes later Jim and a few other detectives appeared to take away the satchel bag and inspect the CCTV tapes but all that revealed were momentary spots in the corner of the shots. Whoever had been here knew where the cameras were and knew how to get past them mostly undetected. With their investigation concluded the police and Jim left with everything they needed, just in time for Lucius to arrive.

“Good afternoon Mister Fox, may I take your jacket?” The kindly man chuckled back at Alfred.

“No Alfred but thank you, these old bones need all the warmth they can muster.” The two of them shared a firm handshake before moving up to the drawing room. “Mister Wayne, good to see you in the flesh again.”

Bruce rushed over to his old friend and shook his hand with a great vigour. “Lucius, I’ve missed you but please we have lots to discuss and not a lot of time to discuss it.” They took their seats and Bruce began explaining to his old friend just what he needed of him.

“I see Mister Wayne; I think I have something that might just be right up your street. I’ll get right on it.” Bruce shook Lucius’ hand once more and let him turn to leave, just before he got to the doors however they opened and Tim walked in. “Ah young Timothy, how’re you finding my new software for your laptop?” Lucius beamed proudly.

“Well now that I’ve sorted out the bugs and improved the run time by six point eight per cent it’s certainly the best setup I’ve had yet.”

The old man laughed deeply and patted him on the shoulder. “One day the world will have no need for old men like me, and I fear that day is coming quickly.”

Tim shook his head. “But then what fun would I have from improving your tech Mister Fox?” Lucius adored Tim and saw him as something of a protégé.

“Well we can’t have that now can we Tim? Go on now I think your dad wants a word with you.” Tim hugged Lucius and let him carry on his way out.

“Come in Tim, I want to ask you something.” The playful look that was on Tim’s face disappeared instantly. “Oh don’t worry you’ve done nothing wrong nor are you in any trouble, something has changed and I need to know how you feel about it.” Tim’s brow furrowed as the cogs in his mind fired up and stared whirring at top speed. “Someone out there is killing criminals and today they left a warning for me. They seem to think that Joker is still alive and that I’m protecting him somehow. I can’t just sit around and do nothing Tim but I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to.”

Tim laughed quietly. “You’ve been away far too long, Batman.”

Bruce tried to stop himself from crying but it was useless, he had barely begun to explain what was happening and yet Tim had already deduced the purpose of the meeting and given his approval. “That’s the thing Tim.” Bruce said wiping the tears away. “I can’t be Batman again, Batman died with Jason all those years ago.” He took a shaky breath; it was still difficult thinking or talking about Jason’s death. “Plus the police would come straight to me, no I have to be something new, something better than the Batman ever was.”

Tim shuffled forwards to the edge of his seat. “You’re taking on a new persona? Have you decided what you’re going to call yourself yet?” Bruce grinned at his youngest son, so eager to help in any way.

“No not yet, but I’ve got some ideas floating around in my head.”

Tim’s look changed once again, he now looked nervous. “Dad I have to ask, are you going to kill? I’m okay with it but it’s got to be for the right reasons.”

Bruce couldn’t believe what he was hearing; no child should have to think about these things. “Tim, please, this isn’t something you should be concerning yourself with.” Now it was Bruce’s turn to receive a patronising look.

“Dad I’m not blind to the world, hell I live in Gotham. I’ve seen enough murder to know what it is and what it does to people. I just want to know that you won’t kill those who could be saved with the right help; Arkham is doing a lot of good now with Dr Thompkins running the show.”

Bruce stopped for a moment, his chain of thought diverted and focused. “Arkham, yes! Tim that’s right. Arkham is the key. No-one who needs help will die because of me; they need a saviour not an executioner. They need a knight.”

Tim stood and placed his left leg on the coffee table, his right arm on his hip and lifted his left arm into the air as if holding a sword. “The Arkham Knight, saviour of the damned and protector of Gotham.”

Bruce swept Tim off his feet and almost crushed him with how tightly he hugged his boy. “That’s who I will be, The Arkham Knight.” Bruce pressed a firm kiss to Tim’s forehead and ruffled his hair. “Thank you Timmy, you don’t know how much this means to me.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long. This fic is now all written. I just needed to find the energy to start proof-reading and posting. Should now be updated every week at least.

When money is no object you can achieve anything you want as soon as you want and within the space of a month Bruce was fighting fit again almost completely back to his full operational standards. Thankfully because of the high-profile nature of the killings most of the other super villains had gone underground and no more had been killed yet, although Bruce suspected Falcone would be next and soon. As the thirtieth of November began slowly drawing to a close, the doorbell rang but not the one at the Manor’s main entrance. It was instead the service entrance for the Batcave, it had been installed when Bruce and Lucius began creating larger and larger projects with greater mass than the belt or a new gauntlet.

Lucius pulled the emblem free Wayne Enterprises truck into the loading bay and brought it to an impressively gentle stop before slowly clambering out of the cabin and down to meet his waiting hosts. “Good evening Mister Wayne, Alfred, I have something for you.” Bruce grinned and wiped the small beads of sweat from his forehead. He’d just gotten back from his warm-down run around the grounds and was still only halfway through his protein shake.

“An early Christmas present, Lucius you shouldn’t have.” A proud grin spread like wildfire over Lucius’ face, he beckoned them to follow him round to the back of the truck.

“In here Mister Wayne is what I consider to be some of my finest work ever. I have pieced together thousands of individual tech components to create singular creations that are frankly unparalleled in their field.” Bruce looked impressed, he’d never seen Lucius brag so much about the new tech he brought to the cave so this really must be special. “May I present to you, the Arkham…”

Bruce flung up his hands. “Wait, wait, wait.” He sprinted over to the wall and smashed the intercom button, transmitting to the entire house. “Tim? Could you join me down in the basement for a few minutes please, and make it quick.” Alfred and Lucius looked puzzled, never before had Bruce involved his kids in these deliveries unless they were the ones the delivery was for.

Before too long Tim appeared in the lift and sprinted over to the loading bay. “What is it dad?”

Bruce knelt down so that he was at Tim’s level. “This is it Tim, my new suit. The one you helped inspire.” Tim shook excitedly and clapped frantically.

 Now with an enormous smile on his face Lucius continued. “As I was saying, I present to you The Arkham Knight.” The Truck doors swung open lights flicked on, illuminating a powerful looking set of body armour.

The suit was dull but not devoid of colour, stealth still a concern, and looked every bit impressive as it did expensive. The navy blue chest plate contrasted against the red, white and grey camouflage pattern of the rest of the suit. Heavy-set gauntlets with high tech voice controlled computer interfaces sat on his forearms whilst strong but lightweight armour plating protected his shoulders and upper arms. The utility belt was the same colour navy as the chest plate and looked a lot sturdier that the previous incarnations. The most impressive and intimidating factor however was the helmet, which caught all of their attention. The back was a similar armour plating to the other pieces on the suit but the front was one entire digital faceplate, illuminated in a deep royal blue colour and a lighter sky blue where the eyes would be (giving the impression of a face). The contoured shape of the faceplate gave a menacing look to it and Bruce found himself falling in love with it.

“Wow Lucius, I don’t know what to say!” Bruce spoke first as the others were too awestruck.

“I do.” Spoke Tim. “It’s perfect!” He clambered up into the truck and placed his hand on the centre of the chest plate which bore a simple white logo, the one of Arkham Asylum.

“Please, try the suit on, there’s more to discover once you’re inside.” Lucius pointed out. Tim jumped down into his dad’s arms and let out a squeal of excitement which seemed to transfer to Bruce as he leapt up into the truck with the greatest of ease and began getting into the suit. “It’s a less powerful version of the armour Dick is currently trialling but I figured you love your cars and that boy lives to fly so could do with a bit more protection.”

The light slowly vanished from his face as he pulled the helmet down over his eyes and then sealed it with the rest of the suit. Momentarily he felt an odd pressure exert on his body then disappear. “Lucius is this suit sealed?”

The old man nodded back at him. “It’s got a small oxygen supply, enough to keep you alive for ten minutes but after that you’re on your own.” Bruce powered on the helmet’s systems and watched as it quickly cycled through each mode to check it worked, coming to rest on the standard tactical HUD screen. “The helmet features; x-ray vision, heat vision, infrared vision, ultraviolet vision, tracking mode, deep-tissue scanners, a genetic scanner, fingerprint reader, and a threat analysis suite. It also has a marksman mode and a two hundred times magnification factor.” Bruce could now see why Lucius was so proud of his creation, a lot of work had clearly gone into it and it would help Bruce considerably when he was on the street.

“You were right Lucius…” Bruce cut himself off mid-sentence as the voice coming out of the suits speakers was not his own. “What’s wrong with my voice Lucius?” He asked.

“Well ir given your criminal record I thought an air of secrecy might be of use, plus the synthesised voice is extraordinarily scary.” Bruce shrugged his shoulders in agreement just as his HUDs radar picked up a friendly target behind him in the truck, the symbol attached to it was that of the Batmobile, but that was parked over the other side of the Batcave.

Bruce turned and pulled aside the white tarp that had been behind the suit and saw what it was hiding. “Lucius you haven’t?!” If it were possible for his smile to get any wider it did as Bruce started flailing around like an excitable little kid. Bruce punched the side-door panel release and watched as a brand new Batmobile was lowered slowly onto the Batcave floor by powerful servos.

“This baby is the latest in hybrid powered stealth assault vehicles. Powered by one thousand and nine hundred horsepower W-sixteen and four independent two hundred and fifty kilowatt electric motors at each wheel and you have the fastest road legal tank in the world.” No one spoke or even moved as Lucius pulled out a pad and powered up the Batmobile remotely, the roar of the enormous engine shook the walls of the cave and Bruce was thankful for the sound proofing he had installed. “This baby is capable of taking out armoured targets with its sixty millimetre cannon, as well as firing six thousand twenty five millimetre rounds a second from the Vulcan gun.” Still silence emanated from the others. “And then if you’re feeling more friendly it has a riot suppression canon that fires non-lethal rounds.”

Lucius keyed a button on the pad and the four wheels separated from the chassis and lifted the entire vehicle higher off the ground and deployed the Batmobile’s weapons system. “If you’re really in a pinch or need to take down target fleeing in an armoured vehicle it’s armed with a full load of surface-to-whatever-you-damn-want missiles. Five gram, seventy millimetre high explosive rounds with laser and infrared guidance should take out anything causing you a headache.” The Batmobile strafed two metres to the left as Lucius swiped his finger left on the pad. “The wheels are a Graphene composite mounted on hydraulic arms with three hundred and sixty degree lateral spin for optimal combat manoeuvrability. It also contains an electromagnetic ejector seat and will deliver a two hundred to three hundred kilovolt shock to anyone who touches it without the correct friend-or-foe tag.”

Lucius spun the vehicle round then dropped it down into pursuit mode and they all watched as the back of the Batmobile opened and showed two seats in a sealed compartment. “You also have the ability to invite two friends along with you, whether they come willingly or not rather depends on why you’re putting them in the back I guess.” Lucius chuckled to himself as Bruce wrapped his arm tightly across his shoulders and squeezed the genius as hard as he dared.

“It’s beautiful Lucius, all of it. I can’t quite believe how you managed to put all this together in such a short time period.” Lucius bowed his head and Bruce thought he detected a slight embarrassment coming from the man.

“If I’m honest sir I’ve been working on this for years as a little side project, all it really needed was to be fabricated and tested, which took no time at all. The painting took longer if I’m completely honest.” Bruce turned and flipped up the faceplate on his helmet.

“Wanna take it for a test drive Timmy?” Tim nodded silently, his jaw still wide open in amazement but it all too soon turned into a huge yawn and Bruce remembered how late it was. “Maybe next time champ.” He said gently slapping his bicep.

“Tomorrow?” Asked Tim eagerly and Bruce nodded affectionately.

“Night, night kiddo, I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.” Tim and Alfred scurried off to the elevator and Bruce walked back over to Lucius who was wiping some dirt from the windscreen of the Batmobile.

“I guess it’s a solo ride for me tonight Lucius. Why don’t you stay for a drink, we don’t often get to see you for long these days?” Lucius tapped his finger against the back of his hand. “I am sorry Mister Wayne but Luke is in town and I’d planned to go for a drink with him and his new boyfriend, Kaldur’ahm, to get to know him a bit better.”

“Of course, go! Send Luke and Kaldur’ahm my regards Lucius and we’ll have that drink another time.”

Lucius laughed deeply. “I look forwards to it Mister Wayne.” Lucius clambered into the truck and closed all the doors on the trailer as Bruce pinned the code for the loading bay’s exit doors to open. Lucius pulled out and set off back towards the WE warehouse on the other side of Gotham.

The cockpit of the new Batmobile was snug with enough room for one only which Bruce was happy for, he’d endured one too many rides with an over excited Dick to ever want to carry another passenger with him again. Although he would miss the conversations he and Jason used to have. He had always had a way with words and his incredible intellect meant conversation was always easy. Bruce pressed the ignition and more felt the engine start that heard it. He took a few moments to get used to the controls then set off into the night.

The way the new car gained speed was incredible, the breaks weren’t too bad either. Bruce looked down at the speedo and saw that he was already doing two hundred miles an hour. He slammed the breaks knowing the corner that was coming up and would he’d be on it before he knew it. He gently guided the hulking beast round the turn. Considering its size and weight the new Batmobile handled well. Bruce checked his thinking, it couldn’t be called the Batmobile anymore as he was no longer the Bat. Instead he needed something more geared towards a knight. Something that sounded threatening so that it matched the vehicle’s true power. ‘Warhorse’ yes that was it, he would call this the Warhorse, it was certainly better than ‘noble steed’ which was the only other suggestion his brain could think up.

Before Bruce knew it he was out past the other side of Gotham so he decided to turn back into the city and drive back to the cave through Gotham, testing out its handling in the tight confines of a city. He placed a call through to the cave and Alfred answered. “Yes Master Bruce?” The Englishman’s face appeared in a tiny holographic projection in front of the steering wheel.

“I need you to add my digital self into the security tapes should anyone come knocking for answers, I’m about to take the Warhorse into the city.”

Alfred nodded diligently. “Of course sir, and may I say I approve of the name. Very apt sir.” Bruce keyed the end call button and sped into the city.

Flashing lights washed over him as he dodged traffic and precisely picked a route through Gotham that he knew would put the Warhorse through its paces. The Narrows provided one of the trickiest routes Gotham had to offer due to the poor thought and effort put into planning it. Roads were often too narrow and turns were either blind or too tight, the Warhorse made light work of it though and he soon found himself hurtling into the warehouse district of the Narrows. The HUDs on both the Warhorse and his helmet lit up with warning sirens. MISSILE LOCK, COUNTER MEASURES SUGGESTED.

Bruce switch the Warhorse into battle mode and identified the source of the alerts, a rocket accelerated towards him and Bruce pulsed the Vulcan gun spraying the trajectory with a hail of bullets. The rocket exploded well out of harm’s way but things had changed. Someone was attacking him. Bruce wasn’t about to let them carry on taking pot shots at him with a rocket launcher. Bruce slammed the electromagnetic ejector seat and felt himself be fired into the air. He brought his grapnel launcher to bear and fired at the rooftop he was attacked from, pulling himself towards it as soon as it latched.

Bruce rolled to his feet on top of the building and found himself a few feet from a mysterious figure. They wore a white, grey and red leather jacket with a deep red hood that cast strong shadows over their face. Underneath was a very obvious set of light body armour with a ripped white t-shirt pulled over it. What worried Bruce the most though wasn’t the two high calibre pistols in the person’s hands, it was the rough red adaptation of his Bat symbol emblazoned on the figure’s chest.

“Nice cannon. I’m surprised! I didn’t think guns were your thing B.” Bruce froze, there was something oddly familiar yet strange to the person’s voice. He could identify that they spoke with a male tone but what confused him the most was that they referred to him as ‘B’. Only a few people in the entire world called him that and half of those were no longer with us.

“I wondered how long it would take for you to show your traitorous face after my little surprise gift, but honestly I’ve been up on these fucking rooftops for the last month. HOW FUCKING LAZY HAVE YOU BECOME BRUCE.” No, it couldn’t be. That voice belonged to someone who died many years ago, someone who had never had the physique of the man stood before him.

“HOW COULD YOU LET THAT FREAK LIVE AFTER WHAT HE DID TO ME!” The person leapt forwards, dropping his guns and pulling out two enormous blades, he swiped at Bruce who deflected strike after strike while still trying to pull his thoughts back to the here-and-now. His assailants blade deflected off his chest plate and Bruce thanked Lucius for his upgraded suit, that blow would’ve gone straight through his old armour and probably punctured his lung. “HE KILLED ME AND YOU COULDN’T BRING YOURSELF TO END HIM BECAUSE OF YOUR STUPID FUCKING MORAL HIGH HORSE!”

Bruce’s brain pieced it all together and he dropped his guard. “Jaylad?” The knife sunk into his abdomen and Bruce dropped to his knees.

“Don’t you ever call me that again you monster!” They whispered before kicking Bruce in the shoulder and knocking him onto his back. They reached a hand up to their hood and pulled it back revealing a seamless red helmet of the same colour as his hood, pressing a finger to a pressure pad the front of the helmet released a slid up onto the top of the helmet. Those azure blue eyes were unforgettable even with the deep green ring around them that Bruce had only ever seen on one person before. The face that held those eyes however held a scar that had not been there years ago, it ran from his chin all the way up to his hairline and just narrowly missed his eye socket.

“Surprised to see me B? I know you’d rather just leave me as dead but I guess it didn’t suit me too well.” Jason flicked the faceplate of his helmet back down and crouched next to Bruce.

“Jason, I don’t know who’s told you all this but…”

“SAVE IT! I don’t want to hear your excuses old man. Gotham has a new saviour and his name is Jason Todd; The Red Hood.” He pulled the knife out of Bruce’s stomach and pushed the edge against the wounded man’s throat. “Just tell me where the clown is and I’ll put you out of your misery.” The pressure on Bruce’s neck increased and he could feel the warm trickle of blood run round the back of his neck.

“Alright I don’t really care what you two are fighting about but it’s got to stop.” Dick landed gracefully on the other side of the roof in his new armour and drew his batons from his back. Jason rose rapidly, switched his grip on the blade ready to throw and pushed his heavy boot into Bruce’s neck.

“Stay out of this bird boy, it’s not your turn yet.” Dick reeled at mysterious figure’s comments and closed ground slightly.

“Listen pal as long as you’re in Gotham you answer to me. I don’t care who you think you are!” Jason pushed off of Bruce’s neck and switched his grip again for close combat.

“Oh you never change do you, Boy Wonder.” The remark about his time as Robin tipped Dick over the edge.

“That’s it you little shit you’re going down.”

The two men were about to charge each other when a raspy cry filled the air. “NO! Don’t hurt him!” Bruce had deactivated the voice synthesiser so Dick would know it was him but he now realised just how much blood he was losing as his vision began to go black once again. The two men could see he was about to pass out as he tried to heave himself up onto one arm. Suddenly Jason lunged for Dick but his armour made him too quick and Dick easily blocked the attack, throwing Jason off balance. He planted a firm knee into his chest knocking all the air out of his attacker’s lungs and smacked his baton into the red helmet sending him flying backwards and cracking the face plate.

In an attempt to stand Jason rolled onto his front, no more than two metres away from Bruce now but Dick was on him in an instant, pressing his foot into the back of Jason’s neck. Dick brought his baton up for the knockout blow, but using his last conscious burst Bruce muttered one word. “Little Wing.” As he fell unconscious his hand vaguely pointed towards the assailant and Dick slowly pieced it together.

“What. No. It can’t, Jay. My Little Wing?” No reply came from the person though. Inadvertently Dick had choked him out and he too was unconscious. Dick collapsed on to his knees and rolled them onto their back, through the cracked face plate Dick could clearly see all of Jason’s features. “Holy fuck.” Dick cried pulling Jason’s body into him and hugged him gently, careful not to crush him in his new armour.

He squirted a can of biofoam into Bruce’s wound to stop any further blood loss and sealed the wound as he radioed for Alfred to come and pick them up. “I’m not sure I heard you clearly, because it sounded like you said Master Jason was alive.”

Dick wiped the last tears away from his face as Kori, who he’d quickly called in for assistance, landed next to him and picked up Bruce, flying him straight back to the cave. “You heard me correctly.”

Alfred spluttered and burst into tears, barely managing to get his next sentence out. “Master Bruce’s new…new vehicle has, has a, a prisoner capsule in, the back. You’re, cleared to drive it. You get back here as fast as you damn can!” Dick scooped up Jason’s unconscious body and rappelled down to the car. The anguish in Alfred’s tone, that was clearly mixed in with heart-breaking hope, fuelled him to move faster. This day was nearly over but for the extended Wayne family it was only just beginning.


	9. Chapter 9

Bruce awoke with a start, attempting to sit up but a sharp stabbing pain in his abdomen forced him back down and he started to remember getting stabbed. He had been on top of building fighting someone who’d attacked him, they had been a formidable fighter and clearly trained from an early age. Then he started to remember it all… _Jason_. Bruce forced himself to sit up, swearing loudly as he felt at least one of his stitches tear. He grabbed the crutches placed next to his bed and slowly started to walk to the door just as Dick and Alfred came through it.

“B, you’re not supposed to be walking yet! Aw shit Alfred he’s thrown a stitch.” Dick put Bruce back on the bed and made him lie down again as Alfred grabbed a suture kit.

“Hold still Master Bruce I’m going to need to redo your stitching.” Bruce winced as Alfred stabbed the local anaesthetic in around his wound.

“Where’s Jason, is he okay? I need to see him Dick, WHERE IS HE?!” Dick pushed gently on Bruce’s shoulders, a symbolic gesture as he was already as far back as he could go but it seemed to work.

“Relax B, he’s a couple of rooms down in the holding room under sedation and observation. We didn’t want to wake him until you were there to do it with us.”

Bruce nodded appreciatively at Dick. “Okay, I’m sorry I just don’t get how this all happened. I saw him die, he can’t be alive. I killed the Joker because of what he did to Jason, and if he didn’t actually die then…”

Dick could see that Bruce was spiralling out of control. “Bruce, Jason died…we all confirmed it and even if he hadn’t remember what you told yourself. If there was one person on this Earth who deserved death, it was The Joker. The only person who could do it was you.”

Bruce brought his hands to his face and dragged them down it slowly, as if to wipe away his thoughts. “I know Dick, just seeing Jason again has sent my head spinning.”

Dick laughed. “You’re not the only one old man. Quick question did you see his eyes? They weren’t normal Bruce.” Alfred finished tying the sutures and Dick pulled Bruce up gently, making sure he put no effort in at all and pulled over the wheelchair.

“Yes I did, they were his, but they were corrupted. And I know what by.” Dick transferred Bruce into the wheelchair and pushed him off into the main section of the cave to consult the Batcomputer. Immediately Bruce brought up Ra’s Al Ghul’s data file and enhanced the image on file to focus on his eyes. “Ra’s’ eyes are green but if you actually look at them, they are unnaturally green, a side effect of his time spent in the Lazarus Pit. I have it on good authority that before he discovered the Pit his eyes were a much darker shade of green.”

Dick considered the information. “You think Ra’s put him in the Pit? But why, and I didn’t think they could bring people back from the dead?”

Bruce shook his head. “It’s rare but it has saved Ra’s before. However his body can only be preserved for so long, he is shying more and more away from active missions. I had heard that he’s been trying to look for a successor of sorts.”

“How so?”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose between his finger and his thumb. “I believe he has found a way to transfer his consciousness from one body to another, so if he found someone he deemed worthy then he could live forever. I believe this is what he would’ve wanted from Jason.”

Dick understood now and started to fill in the blanks. “So he gets hold of Jason’s body and takes it for a swim in the Lazarus Pit bringing him back to life. That still doesn’t explain the sheer violence we’ve witnessed from Jason. Sure he threw a lot of punches but he was never like this?” Bruce agreed but even the world’s greatest detective needed others to fill in the blanks sometimes.

The restraint board Jason was attached to was heavily reinforced. It had held Bane in place before; so they knew that it could hold Jason. “Are you sure you’re ready for this B? He might say some stuff you don’t want to hear?”

Bruce nodded firmly. “We can’t keep him like this forever Dick, and we need answers. We need to know what happened to him.” Alfred toggled the syringe-driver stopping it from pushing any more anaesthetic into Jason’s veins, then swapped it for a dose of stimulants to speed up his recovery.

Slowly Jason started to wake, his head bobbed gently against the board and his eyes fluttered slowly open. “Where the fuck am I?” He looked up and saw the three looking back at him. “Oh shit.” Jason laughed slowly and shook his head from side-to-side. “How’d you do it Dickie? I’m guessing it’s that special armour you’ve got ‘cause there’s no way you match me in an equal fight anymore.” Dick chuckled to himself but remained silent. “And you Bruce, I remember you actually knowing how to fight. I guess old age is catching up to you.” The green in Jason’s eyes flared gently against the manic look filling his gaze.

“Jason, please, tell us what happened to you?” Bruce spoke now, imploring his second son to reveal what they wanted to know.

“Well after you left me for dead Ra’s took me, switched my body for a replica and took me back to his compound.” They all listened with baited breath. “He put me in the Pit as a last ditch attempt to save me, more than you ever tried, and it worked. It brought me back bigger, better, and stronger than before. Then he told me what happened, how despite The Joker KILLING ME, you still wouldn’t break your _bullshit_ oath to never kill.”

Dick spoke up now. “That’s not what happened Jay!”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Sure, because I’m just going to believe every word you say.” Alfred arched his arm over his shoulder and hit a button on the remote he was holding and a screen popped into life.

On the screen it showed the on-board recording from the Batwing as it chased down The Joker on Jason’s Batbike. Then the bright flare as the missile streaked towards the bike. The explosion as it struck its target. The flight recorder tracked the pieces of Joker as they flew through the air and confirmed the kill. “Oh come on, you expect me to believe that? I’ve seen footage doctored to look better than that.” Jason sniggered to himself, still rejecting any of their ‘facts’.

“Master Jason!” Alfred boomed and the face of a scared young boy washed over Jason’s face. “When you first came here you asked me if Master Bruce could ever hurt you, what did I tell you?”

Jason looked bashfully at his toes. “That he wouldn’t.”

Alfred folded his arms and huffed. “What else?”

Jason met his gaze and a single solitary tear rolled down his cheek. “That you’d never lie to me.” Bruce struggled to his feet, Dick rushing to help him up, and then limped slowly over to Jason and started undoing his restraints. Alfred and Dick shifted uneasily, Dick taking up a mild fighting stance just in case he needed to act.

“I killed the Joker Jason, for you. Then I handed myself in and spent several years in prison for it. When I was released, I was a different person. I rejected the cowl and have spent years working on my mental health.” Jason’s restraints were all off now but he barely moved, listening to everything Bruce said. He felt weird and oddly calm, like a pressure on his mind was slowly lifting and allowing him clear thought for the first time in years.

“The only reason I was out last night was because of you, because of what you’ve been doing now that you’re back in Gotham. Ra’s lied to you Jason. He was preparing you to become his successor, to take his mind when his body inevitably fails.” They could all see something changing inside of Jason, like he was crumbling internally. “The anger I see in you, it’s because of the Pit. It’s called Pit madness, it normally shouldn’t last this long on your first contact with the Pit but I’m willing to bet Ra’s and Talia have been topping you up somehow to keep you vulnerable and easily manipulated.” The walls inside Jason’s mind finally gave way and the scared fifteen year old still buried deep inside his consciousness burst out.

Jason collapsed into Bruce’s arms and they fell slowly to the floor wrapped in each other’s arms. “It’s okay Jay-Lad, I’ve got you now and I’m not letting go. Not this time.” Jason sobbed heavily into his father’s shoulder then passed out. The mental exertion of fighting through the Pit induced fog and then dealing with all this information had proved too much for him. Bruce breathed in his smell and then gently lowered him to the floor. “Dick, take him upstairs and put him in one of the guest bedrooms please.” He crouched next to his younger brother and scooped him up in his arms, he was unreasonably heavy even despite his large physique.

As Dick struggled to lift him up Alfred helped Bruce back into his chair. “He’s back Master Wayne, he’s actually back isn’t he?”

***

Bruce’s recovery went well; with the help of some special healing patches Dick had borrowed from Kori when they were together. He had just subsequently neglected to remember he had them when she asked for them back. Walking through the corridors of the manor down to the kitchen for breakfast he found Dick and Alfred waiting for him. “Jason not awake yet?”

Alfred shook his head slowly. “No sir. He’s been asleep for the last few days. I can’t say I blame him, the poor lad has been through more than any person can handle and deserves a good sleep.”

Bruce sat down and tucked in to his porridge, letting the mixture warm him from the inside and sooth his weary mind. “Well I hope he wakes soon, we have so much we need to catch up on. I don’t know how he’s going to take to Tim either but I hope they’ll get on.” A noise behind Bruce made them all jump.

“You know it’s not nice to talk about people behind their backs?” Jason stood there wearing only underwear and sweat pants he’d clearly stolen from Bruce’s wardrobe. The true extent of Jason’s scars were now clear as most of his impressive torso was covered in healed scars, some that stretched from hip to his shoulders.

“The Lazarus Pit was so busy bringing me back from the dead it forgot to properly heal my body.” He paused momentarily. “Not so bad though. Dudes and chicks dig it, it looks hard core.” He laughed at his own joke but it quickly died out as the others looked at him with sad eyes. “Look guys it’s purely cosmetic and I’ve grown to accept them as part of me so let’s talk about the actual problems, yeah?” He sat next to Bruce, shifting his stool closer to the ex-Bat and taking a bowl from Alfred. “Cheers Gramps, I’ve missed your porridge. It fills you like nothing else.” Jason hastily tucked into the bowl of hot oats, barely waiting to blow on it. “Mmm, mmmm shit this is better than I remember!”

Alfred smiled at the young Gothamite. “I added a hint of cinnamon last year to great review from the rest of the family.”

Bruce cleared his throat, anxious to get this next conversation over and done with. “Jason, I need to tell you something and I hope you don’t get too upset by it.”

Jason paused mid mouthful. “You didn’t adopt another helpless young orphan did you B?” The others all looked at each other awkwardly. “Oh fuck you did, didn’t you?! Well shit Bruce where are they, you gunna hide them away from me forever?”

Bruce sighed a sigh of relief, he had feared Jason would take adversely to Bruce taking in another child, but Jason’s reaction was better than he could’ve ever imagined. “Tim is with his tutor at the moment, when he breaks for lunch I will invite him to meet you. But please Jason, he idolised you and mourned your death heavily. He may take a while to come around to the idea of you being alive again.”

Jason slapped Bruce on the back. “Don’t worry B I’ll play it cool with the kid, don’t wanna scare off my younger brother now do I?” He winked and Dick who rolled his eyes and carried on eating his breakfast.


	10. Chapter 10

Tim went running down to the kitchen to grab his lunch and then head back up to his tutor but he failed to notice Bruce waiting outside the ‘education room’ and carried on none-the-wiser. Once Tim was clear Bruce stepped into the room to speak to Miss Becky Howard. “Afternoon Miss Howard, I’m sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if I could speak with you a moment?” Becky beckoned him into the room, she was a strikingly beautiful woman with a short bob of blonde hair. Her most interesting physical trait though was that she had heterochromia iridium meaning she had one blue and one green eye, both were vividly coloured.   
“Of course Mister Wayne, do come in.” Bruce liked to think he had hired her for her teaching ability and wide intellect (of which she did have) but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t physically attracted to her as well.  
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut Tim’s lessons short today, we’ve had somewhat of a family emergency and I don’t imagine he’ll be in the right state of mind to continue after lunch.”  
A saddened look spread over Miss Howard’s face. “Oh god of course. That’s fine I’ll get my stuff together and be on my way. Is it okay if I say goodbye?”   
Bruce smiled at her, the remnants of the playboy he used to pretend to be still reared their head every now and again. “Of course, I’ll walk you down.”   
She smiled back at him. “Thank you, Mister Wayne, and I hope everything’s okay?”   
He grimaced slightly. “I should hope so, but we’ll have to wait and see.”  
Becky collected her books and projector, politely refusing Bruce’s offer to carry it, and followed him down to the main foyer where Tim was just heading back upstairs. “Miss Howard? Where are you going?”   
Bruce moved a step ahead of Becky and rested his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “I’ve asked Miss Howard to take the afternoon off as there’s something I need to talk to you about. If it’s okay she can come back tomorrow for your usual lessons but we’ll have to wait and see.” Tim’s face screwed up, ever since he got booted out of Gotham Academy because nothing they could offer him provided him any intellectual stimulation he had revelled in Miss Howard’s tutelage.  
“Okay, but promise we’ll try and cram this afternoon’s work into tomorrow as well?” Becky laughed gently at her student.   
“I promise Tim, I’ll see you soon.” She waved delicately as she walked past them both, Tim took a mental note of how intently his father watched her actions and then waved once more as Alfred closed the door behind her.  
“Dad, you’d tell me if you liked Miss Howard wouldn’t you?” Tim’s blindside caught Bruce off guard and he stumbled over his answer.   
“What, err, yes. I suppose, why do you ask Tim?”   
Tim rested both his hands on his hips and looked at his father disbelievingly. “Because whenever you two are in the same room you can’t take your eyes off her. I’m no fool dad, I don’t mind if you ask her out. I actually think you two would get on quite well.”   
Bruce shook his head. “No I wouldn’t want to risk making her feel awkward coming round here if things didn’t work out and I think Miss Howard would feel the same way.” Tim shrugged his shoulders and started back down the stairs, thinking of what else he could eat.  
“You said you had something to talk to me about?”   
Bruce stepped quickly to catch up and pulled on his son’s shoulder to stop him. “Yes I do and, well it’s not going to be easy. In fact this has the potential to really upset you Tim.”   
Tim looked worried now, fearing the worst. “You’re not dying are you?!” He said in a panicked voice, tears welling in his eyes.   
“No, no, no, nothing like that. Actually it’s quite the opposite of that.” Tim’s expression turned blank as his brain provided him with no logical answers for what Bruce had just said. “Something, extraordinary has happened. Something I never thought in my wildest dreams could happen.” Tim’s look of confusion grew further. “Jason is alive.”  
Tim was pacing round and round in circles, hand’s pressed firmly to his temples as his mind worked overtime to try and figure out how this could’ve happened. “But he died? You saw him die! It’s the reason you were locked away. I spent years idolising him and his death nearly killed me on the streets. If I hadn’t figured out who you were the day before I heard I don’t know what would’ve happened. HOW CAN HE BE ALIVE BRUCE IT’S NOT POSSIBLE, WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS TO ME?” Bruce couldn’t have anticipated this reaction and was unsure of what to do. His youngest son was spiralling wildly out of control and Bruce couldn’t see where the brake pedal was.  
Thinking on instinct he scooped Tim up into his strong arms and held him tight against his body as the young boy exploded into tears. “I know Tim, it’s messed up and it’s not fair on anyone involved but it’s true. It’s true I promise you, he’s here and he wants to meet you, wants to get to know his little brother and explain to you himself what happened but I need you to calm down first.” The stress and emotional distress all finally got too much for Tim and he passed out in Bruce’s arms. Bruce released some of the pressure and moved him around so that he was carrying him like a baby, just as Jason walked around the corner.  
“Jesus, I didn’t know I could ever mean that much to someone.” His hand held onto the back of his head and he looked down at the overworked young lad.  
“To us Jaylad, you do. Getting you back is the best thing that could ever happen to all of us. To be honest I’m surprised Tim was the first to pass out.” Bruce wiped the tears in his eyes away on his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get him down to the infirmary. When he wakes, you can talk to him. I think it’s the only way we’ll avoid this happening again.” Jason walked over to Bruce and scooped his baby brother out of his arms and headed towards the elevator down to the cave. Bruce went to get Alfred and Dick (who had taken some annual leave from BPD to deal with Jason’s resurrection) and headed down to the cave after Jason.  
Tim opened his eyes but they were blurry, so he slowly began to blink, clearing his vision and allowing him to take in his surroundings. He’d been in here before, the infirmary in the cave was the only place anyone went when they got any kind of injury as it was always fully stocked. “My head hurts.” He said rubbing small circles into his temple. Alfred leaned towards him offering his hand, Tim gave him his and the old Englishman tipped some tablets into his hand and then a glass of water into the other.   
“Take these, they’ll help Master Timothy.” Tim downed the pills and water and hoped they’d kick in soon.   
“Had us all worried there Timmy.” Tim turned around slowly and saw a strange me looking down at him, leaning casually against the counter behind him.  
“Who, who are you?” Tim asked, still mentally recuperating.   
“It’s me, Jason Todd.” Jason threw his hands up defensively. “Now I know it all seems unfeasible but when you hear what happened it will all start to make sense I promise.” Jason slowly edged round Tim, trying not to overwhelm him again and sat on the stool next to the bed.   
Tim shook his head groggily. “Alright but take it slow, I’m not my full self yet.” And so Jason began retelling the story of how he died but got better again, and why he was reborn by a well-known enemy of the Bat. When Jason finished Tim still looked a little uncertain but was looking more like himself.  
“Look you can punch me if you still don’t think I’m real…” Tim swung the hardest punch he could muster into the side of Jason’s arm and hit dead centre in the meatiest part of his arm. “Ow!” He exclaimed even though he had not been hurt.   
“You said I could punch you?” A cheeky smirk covered Tim’s face before he returned to looking ill.   
“Alright I’ll give you that one, but the next one gets a counter strike.” Jason said winking at Tim.   
“So if you went into the Lazarus Pit, how come you’ve got that big scar down your face?”   
Jason sighed gently. “Well Timmy, because the Pit was working so hard to bring me back to life it wasn’t able to do all the mundane stuff it normally does with ease.” Jason lifted up his shirt slightly. “I’ve got them all over, they’re all that’s left of the Joker.”  
Tim smiled up at his older brother. “Well next time wait for me and I’ll cover your back.” Jason saw all the colour drained from Bruce’s face.   
“Maybe not kiddo, take it from me this is something you need to decide on once you’re an adult...” Bruce made a slight upwards motion. “…For a few years and then we’ll ALL talk about it.”   
Tim then turned to Bruce, face full of intrigue. “So Dad what does this mean for the Arkham Knight?”   
Jason’s expression changed to one of admiration. “Nice name, goes well with that suit.”   
Bruce nodded thankfully to Jason then turned back to Tim. “Err If I’m honest I don’t really know, the main reason I was going back out there was because of what we now know to be Jason. To be honest if Jason’s out there I don’t know if I need to be too, it’s something I’m going to have to think on Tim.”  
Tim smiled up at his dad. “That’s okay dad, I get it.” He looked quickly at Jason then back again at Bruce. “Dad is it okay if me and Jason hang out for a little bit this afternoon? I’ve got so many questions I want to ask him about his Robin days!”   
Bruce smiled and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a question you need to be asking me.” He nodded towards Jason who was sat smiling at the two of them.   
“Sooooooo?” Tim asked Jason now and wacked out his best set of puppy-dog eyes.   
“Oh jeez kid yeah, as long as it’ll stop you from doing that face! Holy shit.” Jason instantly covered his mouth with his hand.   
“Don’t worry Jason, I’m well versed with every swear word in circulation and their meanings, you don’t need to worry about swearing in front of me.” Alfred cleared his throat loudly behind them. “But maybe you do in front of Alfred.” Jason extended his fist which Tim firmly bumped back. Jason then lifted Tim off the bed, and they walked off back towards the manor together.   
“Well Master Bruce, that seemed to go rather well?”   
Dick pushed himself off the far wall and leant on the bed. “Hell I think they might actually get on better than Jason and I ever did. Mind you they’ve got more in common, so I guess I’m okay with it.” He said winking at Bruce.   
“Let’s just give them some space to get to know each other this afternoon, I think it’s important that they have this time alone.” The other two men nodded in agreement.   
“Well, I do say all this excitement deserves a cup of tea wouldn’t you say?”   
Dick clapped. “You read my mind Alfred!”


	11. Chapter 11

After dinner the family all settled down into the main lounge, being summer Dick didn’t have to be out on patrol for a few hours yet and so was making sure he spent time with Jason. One of Tim’s favourite films was on TV so Alfred rustled up some popcorn for them all and they settled in. Jason had never seen this film as it was released after his death, but he seemed to be enjoying it, Bruce thought.

Once Pacific Rim had finished Dick reluctantly started dragging himself off to the cave to get ready, Jason oddly enough followed him though. “What are you doing Little Wing?” Dick asked when he noticed he had a second shadow.

“Well I wanna get a closer look at this armour you’re wearing. Fucking beat my ass the other night and I wanna know how.” He laughed as Dick shrugged, accepting Jason’s reasons for following.

“Well you won’t catch me complaining. I’ll take all the time with you I can get.” The elevator closed and a momentary awkward silence fell between them.

“You know I don’t actually think you were a shitty older brother, don’t you?” Jason turned to face Dick rather than staring flatly ahead. “You were going through your shit with B at the time. To be honest I don’t blame you for being a little distant at times.”

Dick’s head drooped, it had always been a crushing guilt of his that he hadn’t always been there for Jason when they were growing up and Jason was stepping into his shoes. “Thanks Little Wing, but just because I had my own shit doesn’t mean I could ignore yours. Let’s face it, I’m the only person in the world with shared life experience.”

Jason laughed gently. “I wasn’t exactly the best little bro either though, I was so focused on becoming Robin and that I could do it on my own that I probably wouldn’t have listened to any help anyway.” Dick nodded with a big smile on his face.

“Stubborn bastard.” Dick said.

“Smug prick.” Jason retorted. Then they pulled each other into an enormous hug which lasted the rest of the elevator journey.

“So come one then.” Jason said stepping out into the cold cave air. “Show me this new armour. I wanna see just how it made you better than me.”

Dick bumped Jason’s shoulder as he walked past, and Jason responded by shoving him. “I was better than you anyway Little Wing.”

Jason cackled loudly. “Puh-lease, the only thing you’re better at than me is that gymnastics shit and that’s only because you had a head start!” Dick stuck his middle finger up at Jason behind him before gracefully flipping up the stairs. “Yeah fuck you too fly boy.” The first Robin spun round and flung his arms out wide.

“You wanna see this armour or not?”

Dick stepped backwards half a pace and planted his feet on the activation pads and the robotic arms sprung to life. Now that Dick was used to the station he had been able to speed it up to its full potential, meaning it now only took a couple of minutes; as opposed to the solid ten minutes it took before. Jason circled the station as it assembled Dick’s armour onto him. The air popping slightly as his shields activated and pushed the air away from the suit. “Holy fuck that’s cool man. I totally got to get me some of this!” Jason moved closer and started to inspect the armour closely. He poked the armour and felt his finger stop just before actually touching and a slight jolt of static ran through his body.

“You like the shields then?” Dick smirked as Jason shook his hand with an impressed expression on his face.

“LIKE? Dude I fucking love it! Tell Lucius to make another because I’ll be damned if I’m letting you be the only one with one of these.” Dick slapped Jason gently on the arm then leapt from the station down to the main area of the Batcave. “What the actual fuck? Does that suit give you powers as well?” Jason shouted after Dick.

 “Well kinda. I’ve got improved strength, speed, reflexes all thanks to a neural implant that is linked to the suit.”

Jason whistled to indicate how impressed he was. “Must cost a fortune!”

Dick laughed. “What in our lives doesn’t?” He said gesturing to the rest of the Batcave. “Look, I’ve got to get back out there and put in some hours on the streets. I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe find out which of us is actually the best.” Dick depolarized the faceplate and winked at Jason.

“Sounds like a plan to me, you best get your ‘world’s biggest dick’ t-shirt ready because I’m gonna whoop yo’ ass boy!” Dick shook his head then set off running towards the exit. Just before he reached the ledge that hid the entrance behind the waterfall he pushed off and flew through the air. The gap between the cave and the forest beyond normally required a rope to swing between them if leaving by foot, but with his new armour Dick made it easily across in one jump.

“He really is a smug prick.” Jason muttered to himself before taking another longer look around the Batcave. Before too long he came across the memorial made in his honour. He paused at the Robin suit suspended in the glass case and placed his palm against the glass. He walked round looking at all the memories with Alfred, Bruce, and Dick, resisting the urge to cry.

“Dick put all this together while I was locked up.” Jason swivelled and saw Bruce leaning against the wall a few metres behind him.

“Jesus! You didn’t lose the knack for sneaking up on people did you?!” Jason clutched at his chest imitating a heart attack then turned back to the walls.

“None of us were the same after we lost you, hence why we’re all under the same roof now. We see just how important family is and we’re not going to lose that again.” Jason feigned a cough so he could wipe away a tear, but Bruce wasn’t fooled and started walking towards him.

“So when does Tim’s training finish? When does he get his suit?” Bruce hooked his arm over Jason’s shoulders and pulled him into his body.

“Well if I have my way, never…but I think he has other ideas about that.”

Jason pulled away slightly from Bruce looking shocked. “You mean Gotham doesn’t even have a Robin anymore? Bruce I thought you would’ve got him out there as soon as possible?”

Bruce walked towards the wall and rested his fingertips against one of his favourite pictures, it was of Jason, Alfred, Dick, and himself down at the local festival for Jason’s fourteenth birthday. They had just won the enormous teddy bear, that’s still inhabiting Jason’s old room, and asked a passer-by to take the photo. “What I did to you, and Dick, was wrong Jason. I should never have put children in the line of fire and I never will again. If, maybe, Tim wants to become Robin or whatever when he’s twenty-one he can. Until then I just will not allow it.” Jason walked round to face his old suit once more.

“You know you never forced me or Dick out there. We went of our own volition and desire to kick ass.”

Bruce nodded. “I know that Jaylad, but as your father I should never have allowed it. I am, however, glad that you have all shared my passion for making Gotham something better than it is. The love I have for you all is what drives me now.”

Jason moved to look Bruce in the eye. “Does this mean you’re going to get back out there then B?”

Bruce was silent for a moment before answering. “Yes, but I’m not the person I used to be. Nor will I fight the way I used to.”

Jason snorted. “No shit B. I’d kinda guessed that from the fuck off cannon and Gatling gun mounted on the new…what is it called ‘Warhorse?”

Bruce laughed and smiled back at Jason. “Yeah the Warhorse, you like it?”

Jason scoffed now. “Too right I do. It’s badass. I’m thinking you need to let me take it out for a spin one night and see what that baby can do!”

Bruce laughed. “Maybe, we’ll see how good you are in the old one first.”

As morning rose Jason was woken by the smell of Alfred’s famous full English breakfast. He sprinted downstairs only narrowly beating Tim and Bruce, but when he arrived in the kitchen he was greeted by a strange ginger man sat across the island from him. “Errrr who the fuck are you?” He vaguely recognised him from his own Robin days but most of the faces blurred together now-a-days.

The ginger paused momentarily, mouth still agape with bacon halfway on its journey to his mouth. “Master Jason; this is Master Dick’s partner, Master Wallace West. He’s a speedster who met Master Dick in the Titans.”

The spindly ginger was slightly more muscular than how he remembered Barry Allen, but when he suddenly appeared in front of Jason offering his hand to shake Jason accepted that he was a speedster and shook firmly. “Nice to see Dick finally came to his senses then. I always knew I weren’t the only bi in the family and he had a thing for dudes too.”

Wally snorted and returned to his food. “Call me Wally; and that’s how I felt too. I almost got bored of waiting!” They all sat down and got to talking over breakfast about Dick and embarrassing memories they had for Wally to tease him with later.

Soon enough Dick arrived back from patrol and appeared in the doorway. “Ahh crap, you two together, this can’t be good for my image.” He walked over to Wally and kissed him tenderly on the lips. “Morning beautiful.”

Wally smiled up at him. “Morning to you too. Good night on patrol?”

Dick shrugged as he helped himself to a speedster sized portion of breakfast. “Nothing too much but enough to keep me busy. Ivy’s giving the parks management team a headache again so she’s next on my list for tomorrow night.”

Jason looked quizzically at Dick. “You don’t go out every night?”

Dick shook his head, then started speaking through a mouth full of scrambled egg. “I’d never see this one if I did. A few years back I decided that it was just unhealthy to be going out every night. Plus BPD used to put me on night shifts as well so I had to be able to do them to keep up my cover.”

After breakfast was finished Jason stayed to help Alfred as Tim sped off to get ready for Miss Howard, as did Bruce. Whilst Dick and Wally went back to bed and eventually fell sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

One o’clock in the afternoon was a peaceful time of day for Alfred. All the morning chores were completed, the cleaning up from lunch was done and he didn’t need to start on the afternoon’s tasks for another forty five minutes. Usually he would go for a brisk walk around the grounds and spend some time thinking on life and its events, today however it was raining quite heavily, and the Englishman didn’t fancy a walk so instead resigned himself to reading the newspapers in the conservatory. He was halfway through his second paper when he was rudely interrupted by one of his _delightful_ grandchildren.

“Hey Alfie, what time does Bruce normally finish work for the day?” Alfred peered over the top of his paper and saw Jason leant against the doorframe, arms crossed and dressed in some baggy slacks and a vest. Jason was getting more and more used to his family seeing the scarred exterior of his body and his confidence was growing.

“Not usually until half five Master Jason but he has a late meeting tonight and so won’t be joining us until at least half six, why is there something urgent that requires his attention?”

Jason sighed and pushed himself off the doorframe using his elbow. “Naa, just fancied hanging out with him for a bit but if he’s busy I’ll leave him to it and hit the gym instead.” Jason turned and left the conservatory as quickly and silently as he’d entered it. Alfred made a mental note to inform Bruce of Jason’s need to ‘hang’ so that the latter could book a day off in the near future.

Jason decided to take the long route down to the gym and used the old staircase that lead to the Batcave and adjoining structures. The main manor did feature a gymnasium but the equipment down in the cave was much more advanced. It was equipment Jason required thanks to his altered physiology. One of the benefits of Jason’s dunk in the pit (other than his resurrection) was almost meta-level improvements to his basic physiology. Jason now had; improved sight to the point he could nearly see in pitch black settings, denser and stronger musculature and bones, faster reaction times and an increase in his healing factor. All this meant that he was ten times the hand-to-hand combatant he had been before and that was without the additional training the League of Assassins had given him.

Jason swung open the door to the Batgym as he used to call it and headed straight over to the padded floor area. Despite all the changes to his body he still remained as agile and flexible as he ever was and thus retained his gymnastic abilities. He slowly warmed up, stretching all his muscles and then did a few basic gymnastic moves to get his joints into action as well. Jason rose out of a full split, taking his weight onto his arms then lifting his body into a handstand. Once he was balanced, he transferred his weight into his left arm and took his right arm away from the floor. After twenty seconds he switched over to his right arm, and then slowly lowered himself back onto his feet. With his warm up complete he skipped over to the treadmill to start the monotonous task that was cardio.

After a solid hour on the treadmill he gradually slowed down and stepped off making sure to wipe his sweat off the machine with a clean towel. Jason picked up his water bottle and spent the next ten minutes cooling down from his run and rehydrating, keen to not have a headache later. Once he felt his body temperature return to something resembling normal (or at least normal for him as he now ran at least a degree hotter) and made his way over to the free-weights. He was just about to start when Dick and Wally made their way into the gym. “Afternoon losers, how’re we feeling today?” Wally simply laughed and made his way over to a special treadmill in the far corner which Jason had guessed was built for Wally and set off as fast as he could.

Jason couldn’t help but laugh as Wally’s arms and legs became a constant blur but his body and head remained perfectly still. “Do you ever get used to that?” Jason asked as Dick walked over to him.

“Errr no not really. It still looks ridiculous to me even now.” Dick confirmed as they both stared over at the speedster.

“You know I can hear you both don’t you?” Wally called out.

“Love you babe!” Dick replied in a feeble attempt to claw himself out of the pit he’d just jumped into. “Oh I’m gunna pay for that later.” He laughed turning back to face Jason.

“Anything interesting on patrol last night?” Jason asked as he began repping the heaviest dumbbells available.

Dick tried not to look impressed but he couldn’t help it, Jason was making it look so easy and had done at least double what he could manage at that weight. “Not really no. If I’m honest it’s all died down a bit since you got here and then stopped again.”

Jason laughed. “See all you need to do is behead a few crime bosses without repercussions and you’re good!”

Dick shook his head and laughed. “God, I forgot how fucking stubborn you are.”

Jason winked back at him then a look of realisation burst over his face and he set the dumbbells back on their blocks. “Hey, you still fancy that fight to see who’s best without that armour of yours?”

Dick smirked and rubbed his hands together. “Alright then, when do you wanna do it?” Dick asked.

“No time like the present.” Jason challenged, a fire lighting in his eyes.

Dick laughed and turned towards the locker that sat against the wall near the raised sparring ring. “Pads on though because me and Wally are going out for dinner tonight and just in case you get a lucky shot in, I don’t want a messed-up face.”

Jason cackled as he climbed up and into the ring, unaware he’d set off an alert that went upstairs. “Well you’re gunna need more than just pads then Dickie-boy.” Jason bounced from foot-to-foot getting a feel for the ring and how much give the canvass had.

Suddenly Bruce’s voice blared through recessed speakers in the ceiling. “You lads okay down there?”

Jason, who’d nearly shit himself when Bruce’s voice appeared unexpectedly, clutched hard at the vest over his heart. “Jesus Christ B! Nearly gave me a heart attack!” Dick hopped up into the ring and threw a helmet and set of pads over to Jason.

“Yeah Bruce, we’re just having a little spar. Jason wants a rematch from the other night without my shielded and enhanced armour which is fair enough to me. Wanna come down and watch?” There was silence for a moment.

“I wish I could but I’ve got to finish this report before the meeting later. Be safe you two and I’ll see you at dinner.” There was a muted beep as the speaker system cut off and it was clear Bruce had returned back to his work.

Jason reached down and picked up the MMA fist protectors and padded helmet. “Ready Dickie-boy?” Jason taunted as he hopped on the spot again. Dick slammed his fist into his open palm and adopted a fighting stance. Jason noticed out of the corner of his eye that Wally had stopped running and was now sat at the side of the ring with a massive bowl of crisps.

Dick tapped the button on the top of one of the pillars that held up the ropes and an automated voice Jason recognised as the Batcomputer’s spoke through the speakers. “Fighters ready. Seconds out, first round. BEGIN.” Jason and Dick stepped closer to the centre of the ring but remained at arm’s length. Dick had the height on Jason and therefore the reach too, but Jason was well aware of his own abilities and Dick’s lack of knowledge of them. Both of the men circled each other, waiting for the other to make the first move but neither was keen to. Eventually Jason decided to break the stalemate and throw a dummy right hook at Dick. As he expected Dick blocked and attempted a counter using the momentum from his block to swing his left leg around the outside of Jason’s defence.

Jason saw the move coming a mile away. He used his already extended arm to hook around Dick’s leg, then using his strength spun on the spot and hurled Dick to the other side of the ring. Dick landed in a mess of arms and legs before quickly righting himself. “Not bad Little Wing, but now you’re gunna get it.” He said with a wicked glint in his eye. Dick ran at Jason, leaping just before he got there with a fist raised for a flying punch. Jason dodged easily and ducked under Dick’s follow up punch, coming up in his fighting stance. Dick launched at Jason with a flurry of brutally accurate punches but Jason simply dodged or blocked them much to Dick’s frustration.

“Come on Jay, stop blocking and actually fight otherwise it’s not much of a redo is it.” Jason could hear Dick’s shortness of breath and decided his time to strike had arrived. With blinding speed Jason stepped forwards and slammed his fist into Dick’s abdomen. Dick staggered back and tried to catch the breath Jason had knocked out of him but before he had the chance Jason was back on him. Dick brought his arms up to protect his head but he wasn’t quick enough. Two pinpoint blows struck Dick in the head, he felt his legs start to wobble but refused to go down so quickly. He planted his feet and swept his leg low hoping to knock Jason down or at least throw him off balance but once more Jason was too quick. He jumped over Dick’s leg and with the momentum of falling to the floor he punched Dick in the top of the head.

Dick froze for a moment before falling to the canvass. Wally rushed over to the nearest pillar and hit the button. A knockout kit lowered from the ceiling and Jason retrieved it as Wally propped up his partner. Jason and Wally observed Dick as he slowly regained consciousness, happy that he was coming back Wally removed the helmet and allowed Jason to complete the neurological exam on him. “Holy fuck Little Wing! How the hell did you do that?”

Jason smiled as he noted down Dick’s scores, happy that he was all okay. “The pit changes you. I’m twice the man I would’ve normally been had I never died.” Dick managed a small chuckle as Bruce and Alfred burst through the doors, little alerts flashing on their watches.

“Is everything okay in here?” Bruce asked, panic lacing his voice.

Dick raised a thumbs up from the floor of the ring. “We’re good B, Jay just got in a lucky shot, Although I don’t think I’ll be challenging his combat abilities again.”

Bruce sighed in relief. “As long as you’re sure you’re alright that’s fine. Jason, take him to the infirmary and run him through the MRI would you please?”

Jason nodded and helped Dick to his feet. “Will do Dad. Next time I won’t hit him so hard.” He winked at Dick who threw a crafty punch into Jason’s abdomen, but was alarmed at how hard his little brother’s stomach was. Bruce and Alfred returned to their duties as Jason and Wally helped Dick to the infirmary and put him in the MRI. Jason couldn’t help but smile to himself, he always knew he was the best but now he had proof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so Jason totally isn't a Spartan from the Halo franchise *shifty eyes* promises ;)


End file.
